Can't Fight This Feeling
by Excillian
Summary: COMPLETE It's another year at Hogwarts, but this time, things are a bit different. Ron's falling for Hermione, and she's falling for him, but who will admit it first? And now Ron's gone and signed Hermione up for the Quidditch team...
1. Default Chapter

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I Can't Fight This Feeling

Disclaimer: The song "I Can't Fight This Feeling" belongs to REO Speedwagon, and I have no claim to it whatsoever. Harry Potter and his little world belong solely to J.K.R. and Warner Brothers, and I have no claim to it either. I can only thank her first for creating a wonderful world and fantastic characters and then allowing me to play with them.

A/N: The idea for this fic came to me while I was trying to do some school work and listen to some music, and when the CD got to this song ("I Can't Fight This Feeling" by REO Speedwagon. I love those guys!) it just sort of grabbed my attention and forced me to listen to the lyrics. And then I was seeing Ron and Hermione in giant red letters plastered everywhere. No joke. So of course, I had to write the story then. And this is the beginning of it. I plan make this into about seven or eight chapters, so we'll see what happens. I can't be sure that each chapter will be the same length as this one, they will probably vary, depending on how I feel I should illustrate each portion of the song. If you like the fic, let me know it by leaving a review so that I'll be encouraged to finish. This is the first R/Hr piece I've ever written, and I'm not sure how good I'll be at it!

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Chapter 1

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Ronald Arthur Weasley walked alone in the night, the Hogwart's Grounds spread out before him in the light of the moon, and the lake somewhere off to his right. He could hear the gentle sound of waves lapping the shore. It was a quiet night; the only sound the gentle whisper of the wind through the trees, and the occasional echo of laughter that drifted down from an open window somewhere above. 

It was almost silent out here, and Ron was unusually thankful for it. He needed to be alone, to think. And he couldn't do that inside, up in the Gryffindor common room, because there was too much laughter and chatter going on. And he couldn't do it in the dorms, because someone was constantly bustling in and out of there, interrupting him. He couldn't even go to the library to think, because that's where the very object of his thoughts resided at the moment. 

He had seen her earlier when he had first sought out a seat in the back of the library, away from the few students who were actually trying to study on a Saturday night. She was sitting by herself at a table, hunched over a book and seeming completely absorbed in what she was doing. He thought about walking over, sitting down and talking to her, but decided against it. Her face was all scrunched up, her eyebrows knitted together in a look that he instantly recognized, the one that bespoke intense concentration as she tried to grasp concepts that were almost out of reach. Not quite, but almost... Nothing was out of reach for Hermione Granger. God he loved that look.

He had stood there in the doorway, staring for what seemed like hours, but could really have been no more than a few minutes. He would probably have continued standing there too, just taking in every little change of expression, every twist or quirk of the mouth, every cute little frown, if something hadn't made her look up. 

Their eyes met across the room, and when she smiled at him, Ron felt his heart stop. In fact, he felt it so acutely, he was still wondering why he wasn't dead yet when she waved him over to the table a few seconds later. 

He went reluctantly, hoping against hope that she wouldn't see the way his face was burning. He'd been goggling at her like some kid who thought they'd just seen Santa Claus. It was embarrassing. At least he had the small comfort that she couldn't possibly know what he'd been thinking while he was looking at her. Ron thought he might die from terror if she knew that.

But if she saw the red stain that crept up over his neck to his cheeks, if she even noticed it at all, she said nothing, and Ron was extremely grateful when she started telling him all about her most recent idea. It turned out she had been hunting down wizarding law books for the past few hours, searching for anything that might help her with S.P.E.W. If she couldn't help houselves by gaining the support of other wizards, then she was determined to find a legal loophole somewhere. 

Ron just shook his head, unable to suppress the teasing grin that burst into life at the mention of S.P.E.W. "Honestly, Hermione, are you still onto that? I thought you'd forgotten about it by now."

She gave him a you've-got-to-be-joking look and glanced back down at her book. "How can I forget about it, Ron, when every time I get up in the morning and see that the fire has been stroked, and that the floors have_been cleaned? Every time I sit down to a meal I know that it was prepared and cooked by a whole staff of house-elves. And every time I see Draco Malfoy I'm reminded that while the house-elves here at Hogwarts are treated fairly, there are still a lot out in the world that aren't."_

She laid her hand on his arm in a familiar, unconscious, natural gesture that sent little shivers racing up the back of his spine, and caused a wave of warmth to rush through him. Ron studied her face intently as she looked up at him, dark eyes wide with a silent appeal. Don't you understand, Ron? How can I make you see that this is important to the entire wizarding community, that it's important to _me?_

And Ron did see. If it was important to Hermione, it was important to him. But he couldn't just tell her that. "You've got a point there," he agreed. He felt himself staring at her again, mesmerized by the slightly triumphant smile that lit her face. You think you've got me now? h_e asked her silently. _Little did you know that you already had me.

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Their eyes met across the table, and Ron saw a slightly puzzled look pass across her face, even though she continued to smile at him. That was when he suddenly realized that he'd been staring at her a bit too long. Ron felt his face flame again, and quickly pretended to cough, hoping to cover it. 

"I've got to go," he'd lied without looking at her. He was already pulling himself to his feet. "I'll see you later." He didn't even try to come up with an explanation for his abrupt departure; he didn't think he'd be able to think of anything reasonable with this indefinable mist of emotion clouding his head as it was. 

Hermione frowned, obviously concerned, and opened her mouth as if to say something, to stop him. Ron had almost decided that if she asked him to stay he would, just to please her, but as if she'd thought better of it her mouth closed again without having uttered any words, and he walked on.

He'd wondered through the halls, looking without seeing, hearing without listening, as though oblivious to the world around him. And in his own way, he was. All his energy and attention was turned inwards, battling the haze that had settled over his mind and trying to get to the heart of it, to discover the cause of the strange feelings he'd been experiencing lately whenever he was around Hermione. Well, maybe they weren't entirely "recent". In fact, he'd been having varying degrees of the same emotion since the beginning of his 4th year, over two years ago. But it was only since the beginning of this year, his sixth, that the feelings had really progressed, seeming to grow stronger daily. He would never forget the way his head would spin and his heart would start to race if Hermione only looked at him. Not to mention the way his vision blurred and his mind clouded when they touched, which seemed to happen a lot more often now that he felt every little movement with an intensity that shocked him.

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I can't fight this feeling any longer

And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow

What started out as friendship has grown stronger

I only wish I had the strength to let it show

He couldn't remember ever having felt this way before about anyone, and even though he didn't like to admit it, not even to himself, especially not to himself, it frightened him. There was a part of him that cringed and shied away at the very idea of feeling so much for one person, of placing so much power in the hands of one mere mortal. _But Hermione is__not just one mere anybody, _he reminded himself. _She's...she's..._He couldn't finish the thought. Exactly what Hermione was escaped him for the moment. 

And so he had wandered, through the corridors, down the stairs, and out the door. Out into the clear, cool night. And here he was.

His thoughts hadn't changed, not really. He seemed to be simply repeating the same ones over and over. _What is this feeling? Why do I only feel it when I'm around her? Does she feel it too? _

It was that last question that his mind turned to now, studying it, twisting it, turning it over time after time and flipping it from side to side in the vortex of his mind. Searching…searching...for an answer that would never come. It was a hopeless endeavor, but that didn't stop it from happening. _Does she feel the same way I do? Does her heart stop and do her knees start shaking when I enter the room? Does her blood warm and do her hands tremble when they brush mine?_

And if they do, then why doesn't she say _anything? Could she be just as scared and confused as I am? _

Somehow, the possibility seemed _im_possible. How could he, with his too-bright red hair, his abundance of freckles, his over-long legs, and his average (if that) intellectual abilities ever hope to be the one to make beautiful, smart, kind Hermione Granger feel those kinds of things? It just couldn't happen. More than likely, it was Harry who evoked those kinds of responses in her. The very thought sent a wash of jealousy racing through him, at all the things Harry was that he could never be: popular, famous, brave, talented...rich. Rich enough to buy Hermione expensive gifts that he, a Weasley, could never afford. Rich enough to take her to fancy restaurants and on vacations. Rich enough to- _Enough! _He forced himself to push the feeling down, to shove it aside. Harry was his best friend, always had been. And he hadn't asked for those things, hadn't wanted them...If Ron asked him, he knew for a fact that Harry would trade all the money in the world to have his parents back again. No, it wasn't Harry's fault if Hermione felt things for him, or he for her. It was just…life, he supposed. 

Still, the mind will wonder, and as he followed the path around the castle, once, twice, three times, he thought of what it would be like if Hermione _did_ return his feelings. Would he be excited or nervous? Afraid or fearless?****Would he be happy? 

At least that was an easy one. Ron knew that if Hermione ever did confess her feelings for him, he wouldn't just be happy, he'd be positively ecstatic. In fact, he'd probably be so enthused that he'd sweep her into his arms and kiss her, full on the lips.

This thought brought a rush of images with it: the two of them, sitting together at the edge of the lake, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, hands clasped firmly together as they stared out over the water, both lost in thought. Her head would be resting on his shoulder, and his arm would be around her waist; a dark, but starlit night on top of the Astronomy Tower, her hands encircling his neck, his fastened firmly to her waist as he pulled her closer, their lips touching...

Ron shook his head, driving the pictures away, fighting for control of his roiling emotions. Why torture himself? Why dream of something that would never be? 

He realized then, for the first time, that he had reached the doorway leading into the castle, and the shadows on the ground marked how late it had grown. It was time to go back, or people would start to miss him. With one last shake to clear his head, Ron pulled the castle doors open and walked inside. 

And from far above, sitting on a window seat in the girl's dormitory of Gryffindor Tower, Hermione pulled her head away from the open window where she'd been watching him and sighed. _Oh, Ron. You're not the only one who's confused about something around here. If only you knew..._

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A/N: Review Please!

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	2. Chapter 2

I Can't Fight This Feeling

Disclaimer: see first chapter; I own nothing.

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A/N: Well, here it is, the second chapter. I hope you all like it. Oh, and one other thing: If you guys have not heard this song out, go find it somewhere, it's an amazing song, and the music that goes with the lyrics will really make you see how well this song fits Ron and Hermione. That said, read on.

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Chapter 2

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Hermione walked slowly down the corridor on her way to Charms class, allowing Ron and Harry time to catch up with her. They'd been slow about leaving the Transfiguration classroom, and Hermione had been in a hurry to talk to Professor Flitwick about their previous homework assignment, but seeing how they were practically running through the halls to catch up with her, she figured she could spare a second to see what they wanted. 

She should have known it would be something stupid. 

"Hey, Hermione," Ron called as they got closer. "Guess what we just found out?" his excited tone sparked her interest, and when his arm accidentally brushed hers, Hermione felt her heart jump. 

She laughed shakily to cover the way her hands suddenly trembled. "What?" she asked, more to Harry, who had come up on her other side, than to Ron. She didn't think she could safely look at him right then. She was too afraid she'd start blushing under that baby-blue gaze for absolutely no apparent reason. You know, it was strange. She never felt anything like this when Harry touched her.

"Gryffindor has there first Quidditch practice tomorrow!" 

Harry's words shook her out of her musings and her gaze shifted from one boy to the other, eyebrows raised faintly. _That _was the news? "And?" she prodded, thinking there had to be more to the story if they expected her to get excited about Quidditch. 

"What do you mean, and?" Ron asked, incredulous. "What else does there have to be? Quidditch, Hermione, Quidditch. Broomsticks, flying balls, fun. Not that you know much about that," Ron added under his breath and immediately regretted it when he realized that Hermione had heard him.

Hermione felt her face grow hot. But it wasn't from embarrassment, it was fury. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Ronald Arthur Weasley?" And to think, two seconds ago, she'd been melting under his gaze...

"I-I-" Ron stammered, "Nothing. It didn't mean anything." Harry shot him a sympathetic look.

"Hmmph. It didn't sound like _nothing _to me." Hermione was still glaring at him, and several students hurried around them and on down the hall, casting furtive glances behind them. Harry wished wistfully that he could join them. He really didn't feel like listening to another argument between the two of them- wait a second, why couldn't he join those other students? It wasn't _his _fight after all. 

He started walking, leaving the pair of them to it. If they wanted to yell the school down around them, that was there prerogative. Hermione was still glaring, and Ron looked chagrined, but determined. What was worse, was that Ron hadn't even told her the _real _news yet. _And I so don't want to be around when it gets to that part, _he thought with a sigh. Even if it had been partly his idea...

Neither of them noticed when Harry left them and disappeared around the corner, and Hermione was so incensed by now that she didn't even care if they were late for Charms. She was going to have this out with him, here and now. She wasn't sure why his comment had rankled so much, but it had, and she wasn't going to take it easily. 

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But you do know, a little voice whispered in her ear. _It's because it's true...Shut up! _she ordered it fiercely. _It's not true, it's not. I have fun! _The voice fell silent.

" 'Mione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, you know I didn't." 

Ron's soft voice pleaded with her not to get mad at him, his blue eyes clouded, and in spite of all her efforts to prevent it, Hermione felt herself softening. He hardly ever called her by her old nickname anymore. She often wished he'd do more often; it was so distinctly _Ron. _Not even Harry could call her that and really get away with it. It just ended up sounding stupid. But when Ron said it, it was so natural...

Hermione felt her anger melting away, and mentally slapped herself. Now was _not _ the time to be having those thoughts. Now wasn't time to- Bloody hell, now was time to get to class!

Taking a deep breath, Hermione released the rest of her anger. "I know you didn't, Ron," she said as gently as she could, at the same time rearranging her books in her arm and starting to walk away. "Let's just forget about it and get to class, okay?" She didn't wait to hear his answer.

Ron hesitated a moment, then rushed to catch up with her. "I haven't even told you the best part yet." 

Hermione's steps faltered, and she risked a glance up at him. He was smiling at her, a hopeful expression in his eyes, and even as she smiled back, Hermione felt a surge of unease. "There's more?" she asked carefully. 

She didn't want another argument if she could help it...

"Yep." 

Hermione's brows furrowed with impatience at his sudden lack of eagerness. "So...?"

"Maybe I should wait until after class." Ron wondered aloud, voice apprehensive. _I don't think this was such a good idea...She's going to get mad at me again, and I hate when we fight._

You did it for her, he tried to remind himself. _She needs to get away from those books of hers, she's going to end up with one permanently attached to her face if we don't watch it. And it was Harry's idea too! _

That last part sounded a too much like desperate self-justification for his liking, and firmed his resolve to wait until later. _Later. I'll just tell her later._

Hermione frowned slightly, but nodded her agreement. "Good idea. Let's wait until class is over. I have something important to discuss with Professor Flitwick, so I really need to get there a bit early."

They walked into the classroom one after the other, Ron stepping back to allow Hermione to go first, like he always did. It was funny, she decided as she walked to her desk. She had never really noticed how considerate it was of him. He was truly a gentleman...

And then she snorted with laughter at her own stupid thoughts. Ron, a gentleman? Not even.

It wasn't until she came back to reality a second later that she realized everyone was staring at her. 

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Professor Flitwick asked, a concerned frown on his face. Couldn't have his best student ill. It just wouldn't do...

Hermione felt her face burning, and slouched down in her seat a little. "I'm fine, Professor," she mumbled, not immune to the snickers of her classmates around her. Even Harry was smiling, though he tried to cover the expression with his hand.

"Alright then," the Professor continued. "Now, about those vanishing charms..."

Hermione perked up again, quill in hand as she prepared to jot down notes. She was writing rapidly when a new awareness hit her. Someone was still staring at her. Looking up, she jerked her head quickly to the side and met Ron's eyes. There was something odd about them, something she'd never seen before. A vague kind of dreaminess, almost as if his eyes were focused on her but he wasn't really _looking. _

Kind of like the way I look at him sometimes when he can't see me, she thought suddenly, and the comparison hit her like a physical blow. _But that's silly, _she argued with herself. _Why would Ron possibly be looking at her that way? I mean...it's _Ron.

Her reasoning didn't help, didn't make the odd feeling go away. If anything, it seemed to intensify it, so that when Ron blinked and the vague look disappeared from his eyes abruptly, she felt herself blushing again. Now _she _was the one who had gotten caught staring. She averted her gaze quickly, hoping Ron hadn't noticed the rosy hue that stained her cheeks but certain that he had. 

The rest of the class was spent with her pretending to take notes and pay attention while really glancing covertly out of the corner of her eye to where Ron set at his desk. He didn't look at her again, just kept his eyes locked carefully on the front of the room. Hermione was oddly disappointed.

After the class was over, Harry and Ron waited outside the door, conversing in low voices, while Hermione had her discussion with the professor. The boys seemed to be arguing about something, she discovered as she approached, but their voices stopped as soon as she walked out. 

She smiled amusedly at them, the chat with Professor Flitwick fully restoring her good mood. "Oh, you can go on if you like, don't let me stop you." 

Ron shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously, and Harry glanced away; neither of them replied. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she looked at them warily. "Okay, spill, what is it? What's going on?"

Still no answer. Her eyes narrowed further, this time with more than a hint of impatience. "Alright, Ron, you said you wanted to tell me something after class. Now have done." 

Ron bit his lip, unsure how to reply. "Harry'll tell you," he said quickly, glancing at Harry and hoping his friend would oblige him. Ron was sorry he'd put his friend on the spot, especially because Harry had just so adamantly been insisting that Ron had to be the one to tell her, but maybe Harry would have pity on him and help him out.

Fat chance. Harry just looked at him, his green eyes unreadable to all but a few people. And Ron was one of them. 

He groaned inwardly, knowing it was no use. It had been his mouth that had voiced the idea, and it was his responsibility to tell her. 

Taking a deep breath, Ron told her. "WesignedyouupfortheQuidditchteam," he mumbled so fast that it was impossible for her to have heard him.

Hermione gave him a blank stare. "What?"

He sighed. There was no getting around it. "We signed you up for the Quidditch team."

If looks could kill, Ron would have been six feet under in two seconds flat. "You did what?" Hermione's voice was deadly calm.

Ron didn't answer, just cringed and looked away. He knew she'd heard him. Hermione glanced towards Harry, but he refused to meet her eyes.

"Of all the dirty, rotten-How could you do that?" she asked, the pitch and volume of her voice getting higher and higher. 

Her face was not a pretty sight either, all clouded and ominous looking. Ron found himself mentally comparing her to a raging thunderstorm. 

"Why would you possibly think I would want to be on the Quidditch team, either of you? I hate flying!" She was completely exploding now, and Harry wondered absently how long it would take before the roof caved down on them. Two minutes? Three?

"How is that even possible? I never tried out!" 

Ah, now there was something Harry could answer. "I know you didn't," Harry explained. "Neither did anybody else, and we were one player short this year."

Hermione's voice dropped back to it's normal level, and she forced herself to speak evenly. She knew if she let herself she'd get carried away and have the whole school talking. "So...you just _assumed _that I'd fill in the empty place, did you? _Knowing _that I've never played a game of Quidditch my entire life, _knowing _that I'm not even that great of a flyer..." Her voice trailed off, leaving a nasty silence in it's wake.

"I can help you," Ron volunteered, his voice lower than a whisper. But Hermione heard.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I can help you. You know, show you how to play the game, help you improve your flying..." he explained in a small voice, suddenly finding the floor fascinating to look at. 

"Oh you can, can you? Well what if I said that I refused to play? What if I simply said 'no way'?"

Neither Ron or Harry had any answer to that. 

Hermione closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. She needed to think, to see things clearly, and she couldn't do that through a haze of anger. "I'm going to the library." 

Harry's and Ron's eyebrows shot up as she left, leaving them standing outside the empty classroom. Professor Flitwick had already bustled past them before the argument began. They watched her walk around the corner, both wondering whether that was really it, or if she was going to come storming back around the corner again, all riled up and ready for another fight. She didn't.

After a few minutes watchful, anxious silence, the two boys turned to look at one another. 

"Guess I've really done it this time," Ron said expressionlessly.

"Guess so," Harry replied lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that hung over them. 

"She's never going to speak to me again."

Harry's brow lifted, and he studied Ron calculatingly. "You really do like her, don't you?" 

"Hmm?" Ron asked absently, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"I said, you really do like her, don't you?"

That brought Ron around. "Who?"

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. "_Hermione._" 

The red flush that spread over Ron's face was answer enough. 

"I knew it," Harry grinned smugly, causing Ron to glare at him.

"Oh, really? How?" 

"Well, it's fairly obvious for anyone with eyes, you know."

Ron's eyes widened. "You mean...Hermione...?"

Harry shook his head, smiling now. "No, not Hermione. In fact, she seems to be the only one who's as blind as you are about the fact."

Ron felt relief wash over him in tidal waves. "Good. Because she can't know. Not ever."

Harry looked at him then, puzzled. "Why on earth not?"

Ron didn't answer at first, just stared hard at the ground. Then he looked up, and Harry could have almost sworn there were tears in his eyes. "Because," Ron said. "She would-she would never like me like that."

Harry eyebrows lifted in surprise. "No? What makes you think that?"

"I-I don't know," Ron said. "She just wouldn't, that's all."

Harry shook his head. "You'll have to tell her how you feel, sometime; eventually."

Ron nodded. It was the same thought that had been racing through his head for the past week, ever since the night he had finally realized that what he felt for Hermione was anything but friendship anymore. "I know," he confided, "but I just can't. Not yet. Call me a coward, if you want, Harry, but I'm so scared she'll laugh in my face that I can't do _anything. _I can't eat, I can't sleep..." he trailed off dejectedly. "It's hopeless. And it's kind of funny too, in it's own, strange kind of way. I mean, Hermione's so...well, _Hermione. _She doesn't seem to change, not really. You'd think that I'd be able to predict her answer, if I told her the way I felt. But I can't. I can't even _try _to predict what she's going to say, because part of me doesn't want to know. Part of me wants to go back to the way it used to be, before these...feelings interfered with our friendship. Back to when things were so clear cut. Hermione used to be the one I could count on to show me the way, to solve problems, to make things clear. Now, I'm stuck with the biggest problem in the world, and the only person I can't tell about it is her." He gave a soft, bitter laugh.

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I tell myself that I can't hold out forever

I say there is no reason for my fears

Cause I feel so secure when we're together

You give my life direction, you make everything so clear

"It'll be alright, you'll see. She'll come around." Harry felt his heart go out to his best friend, and he tried to project as much confidence into his voice as possible. 

Ron swiped his sleeve across his eyes quickly, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed to be rambling on as he was in front of Harry. "You really think so?" he asked, his voice a bit more hopeful.

"No, Harry replied, shaking his head, "I know so." _I hope I'm right about this..._

The two boys turned, and began walking back towards Gryffindor Tower, the opposite direction from the one Hermione had taken. She waited until they were out of sight, then pulled her head back to the corner and practically flew to the sanctuary of the library.

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A/N: That's it for now, but don't worry, I plan on updating this story often, with probably not more than two days in between each posting. Hope that suits everyone. Oh, and don't worry about me not being able to do it, because I am happy to say that I've actually already finished writing the entire story. So it will be finished! 

Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers:

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Line- from Denmark; PoTtErLoVeR2;Eiraugcam Suruaseht;Gwen;ThinkingOfaName;Lady Lily;row;cat-chan;martha, and anyone else who reviews before this chapter is uploaded. I love you all!

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	3. Chapter 3

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I Can't Fight This Feeling

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Disclaimer: I own nothing. The song belongs to REO Speedwagon, and Harry Potter belongs to J.K.R. and Warner Brothers.

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Chapter 3

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Ron paced the dormitory, thinking furiously. He had to apologize to Hermione. It was as simple as that. He'd waited and waited for her to return to the common room, to speak with him, but she hadn't come. She'd been hiding herself away all afternoon in that library, and it had to stop. 

Mind made up, Ron turned on his heel and strode out the door, cloak flying behind him and a determined look on his face. He had to go now, before his nerve failed him.

He passed Harry on his way out of the common room, and his best friend sent him a questioning look. 

"Hermione," he mouthed silently, barely pausing as he went by.

Harry's eyebrows shot up so far Ron thought they might just sail on off and away, but then Harry smiled encouragingly and winked at him. "Good luck," he mouthed back.

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I'm gonna need it, Ron couldn't help thinking as he made his way down the corridors and pushed open the door to the library. Now, where was that girl?

He didn't see her at first, she wasn't in any of her usual places. He realized why a short second later as someone walked into him. He looked down, and noticed that the girl had shoulder-length, bushy chestnut hair and eyes of molten chocolate. Ron thought he'd never seen anyone so beautiful as the girl looked right that moment. It took about half a second longer to register that he was staring at Hermione.

"Oh, sorry," she was saying automatically, I didn't see-Ron?" The surprise in her voice was accompanied by the expression on her face. Hermione stood there for a moment, simply staring in disbelief. 

"I didn't see you either," Ron said softly, trying to sound light hearted and give her a smile, but failing dismally. Her eyes were red, as was the skin around them. 

He reacted without thinking, tilting her chin up carefully so that she had to look him full in the face. He studied her face, searching her eyes with his own. "Have you been crying?" he asked gently, concern filling his voice.

The thumping of Ron's heart multiplied suddenly, and sounded louder in his ears, and he felt an painful ache growing within him. Had he caused this? Had he made her cry? Ron felt a wave of self-anger so strong then and was cursing himself so loudly in his mind that he was sure everyone else in the room, must hear it, including Hermione. How could he have been so stupid? Of course she would have been hurt by the argument, he should have come looking for her and apologized immediately! What was the matter with him?

But none of his inner turmoil showed on his face, and he stood there, seemingly calm, one hand under her chin and a look in his eyes Hermione had never seen before. She stood silently, soaking it in like a sunbather lying on a beach, the warmth and tender concern in it causing her to loose all power to speak, to breathe, to do anything more than stand there, staring. 

But people were beginning to notice, and Hermione felt their unabashed curiosity and amusement like a cold wind on her back. Ron seemed completely oblivious. Pulling away, she lowered her gaze and watched Ron's hand drop back to his side, slowly, reluctantly, like it really wanted to reach out to her again...

Hermione pushed the thought away. Her imagination was running away with her again. She forced herself to look up at him, to meet his gaze. "I'm fine," she lied. How could she be, after what she had overheard in the corridor outside the Charms classroom? She had hung around, waiting to see what they said about her- yes, _eavesdropping _if you like- but she had never expected..._that. _

And now that she'd heard it, she didn't know how to act around Ron, didn't know what to do. What words would give her away, and which one's wouldn't?

Ron's slightly amused voice broke into her thoughts again before she could travel very far down that path. "That's not what I asked, Hermione Alexis Granger, and you know it." Why didn't she just tell him the truth? He'd understand. He'd come down here to apologize, after all. 

"No," she said, "it's not." A slight smile touched the corners of her own mouth, but she offered no other explanation. "What are you doing here, Ron?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Ron hesitated, then answered truthfully, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "I came down here to apologize. I'm sorry, Hermione."

He was apologizing? For saying he liked her? She drew back instinctively, feeling the tears forming in her eyes. Then she saw his wide-eyed look of surprise, and could have slapped herself. Of course he wasn't apologizing for that, he didn't know she'd heard that...He must be apologizing for the Quidditch thing then, or for the entire argument all together. 

She smiled in relief, the tears receding as quickly as they'd come. "For the argument?" she asked, wanting to be sure they were on the same page this time.

He nodded earnestly, his eyes never leaving hers. "For the argument, for signing you up for the Quidditch team without asking...for everything." He paused for breath then, and the sad, self-blaming look came into his eyes before he could stop it. "I'm sorry I made you cry." He looked away then, unable to look at her for another second. He felt so ashamed that the emotion was like a physical thing radiating from him. Hermione felt it, and didn't know whether to laugh or cry this time. 

She settled for a small smile, knowing that the crying would only make him feel worse, and the laughing would be like an insult. "It's okay, Ron, really." 

He looked up quickly, obviously startled at such an answer. "You mean it, really?"

"Absolutely. I completely forgive you, and we can just forget about the entire episode."

"Okay..." Ron trailed off, unsure of what to say next. Seeing her looking at him, smiling with those kind eyes of hers, he felt the sudden urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. To pull her into the warmth of his embrace and hold her there forever, never letting her go. He fought it, knowing that now was probably not the best time, and certainly not the best place. Besides, how would she react?

Hermione saw the struggle in his eyes, but didn't understand it. What was wrong now, she'd said she forgiven him, right? "I'm sorry too," she added on impulse, thinking that might be what was wrong.

Ron's eyes cleared, and he looked at her strangely. "What do you have to be sorry for?" 

"I..I don't know," she admitted. "But you looked like you were trying to decide something, and I though an apology from me might help."

Ron smiled wryly at her uncertain look, and at the thought behind it. "It did," he told her, hoping to make her smile again. Oh, if only she knew what he had _really _been thinking about... 

Hermione did smile then, and looked up at him brightly. "Should we head back to the common room then?" 

Ron nodded his agreement, and they started towards the door, hands brushing as they went. Ron's footsteps faltered, and he shook his head as he fought down the impulse to reach out and grab her hand, to cover it with his own and hold it there as they walked. _Not yet._

He kept glancing at her as they walked, side by side, and to his surprise, he noticed that she was casting shy glances his way as well. Hmm. That was a new development. The thought warmed him, and the next time she looked his way, he gave her the brightest smile he could muster. 

Her answering grin was enough to make his palms start sweating, and he wiped them quickly on his pants before she noticed. God she was so beautiful just then. That radiant smile lit her face like the sun itself, and she seemed to glow from within. Oh, if only he _could _hold her hand...

__

What's stopping you? a voice taunted him. _Go on, do it. Just reach down, and take the girl's hand. Look at that smile, she's not going to protest, you know she's not._

And for one teeny, tiny moment out of time, Ron almost responded. He almost reached down and took her hand, like the voice had said to, but something stopped him. At first he couldn't figure out what it was, but then it hit him. He couldn't reach down and take her hand because of the exact same reason he had tried to convince himself he could. _Look at that smile..._he had thought. Well, it was exactly because of that smile that he _couldn't _do it. 

Sure, Hermione might not complain, might not pull away...but what if she did? Then that smile would be gone forever, and he'd never get it back. No, he couldn't do it. He couldn't risk it.

**__**

Even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the wind, on a cold, dark, winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

They entered the Gryffindor common room, and Ron was surprised at how empty it was compared to when he had left. There were only a few people still down here; the rest had gone up to bed. _How long were we gone? _he wondered absently as he searched the room for Harry.

He found him almost instantly, sitting in one of the huge, comfy chairs by the fireplace, and he and Hermione went to join him. He had already settled himself in the one other chair beside Harry's when he realized that that left Hermione no place to sit, unless she sat beside one of them. He gulped. They'd done it hundreds of times before, of course, shared seats without qualm. Now though...

The situation didn't seem to bother Hermione at all, and she sat down beside him without visible thought. Ron tensed nervously, trying his best not to show it. He thought he had even succeeded until Harry looked at him pointedly. "Relax," he mouthed. _She's not going to eat you, _his eyes added. 

Ron took a deep breath and calmed himself. No, of course she wasn't. He was being silly. He took Harry's advice and allowed himself to sink back into the chair. Beside him, Hermione was doing the same. Suddenly, a chair that had once seemed so huge seemed incredibly small, and Ron found himself watching closely for any sign that their hands or legs were about to brush accidentally again. They didn't, and when Hermione finally stilled, he let out a silent sigh of relief. He didn't know if he could contain any more sudden impulses to kiss her should they strike him again.

Hermione rested her head against the back of the chair, feeling somehow uncomfortable when these same chairs had been perfect before. She glanced at Ron out of the corner of her eye and suddenly wished she had the courage to lay her head on his warm, broad shoulder. It would be much better...

"I've decided to join the Quidditch team," she announced hastily, more to drive the thoughts from her mind than from excitement. 

If ever it was said that any two boys could gape and stare more than Harry and Ron did at that moment, Hermione would never have believed it. She laughed softly at their identical expressions of awe, and punched Ron lightly in the arm without thinking. 

"You'll help me, right?" she asked with feigned casualness, immediately regretting the way she'd touched him. It brought that funny mist back into her head again, clouding her mind until she couldn't think straight. Which was certainly not good. It put strange thoughts into her head. Like now, when she was worrying about whether Ron would change his mind, go back on his offer now that he had learned she wanted to take him up on it. 

"Of course," Ron answered immediately, no trace of uncertainty lingering in his voice, only a contained excitement. 

How could she have doubted him for a minute? This was _Ron, _after all, not some coward who went back on his word...

She smiled at him then, and he smiled back, Harry completely forgotten. "Good," was all she said. 

A few more minutes passed, in which no one said absolutely anything. They just sat and stared, Ron and Hermione at each other, Harry at them, waiting with less and less patience for them to say something, anything. They didn't.

"Ahem," he finally broke in, clearing his throat loudly. "I _am _here, you know."

The other two tore their gazes away from each other, both blushing profusely. Harry grinned at the sight, feeling much better now that _something _was happening. "Look," he continued," it's getting late, and we all need to get to bed. It's Saturday tomorrow, Ron, so you and Hermione can start practicing immediately. I'll even come by to help, if I have time with all the homework I've got to catch up on." He grinned then, a slightly insinuating smirk that caused Ron and Hermione's faces to flame again. "I'll leave you two down here to...discuss you're plans, I'm going on up to bed."

Ron's eyes widened, and he jumped up from the chair immediately. "I'm coming to," he said, remembering just in time to feign a yawn to back up his story, "I'm tired."

Harry looked at him in disbelief, wondering if Ron had suddenly gone crazy. "Are you sure you want to? Maybe you two should stay down here together and discuss...things. Nobody would bother you. You'd be completely _alone._" Harry gestured around the empty common room pointedly.

"No, that's okay, I'm tired too," Hermione broke in, sympathetic to Ron's discomfort, even if she wasn't sure of the cause. How could she not be, when she was feeling it herself? She wanted to stay down here alone with him, in some ways, she even longed to. But there was that niggling doubt in the corner of her mind, the one that wouldn't go away and leave her in peace. The one that kept insisting that despite everything she'd heard and seen today, Ron still couldn't like her... that way. 

And how much worse it was for him. Not once had she given him any real encouragement, not once had she openly admitted anything to him. He wanted to touch her, to hold her; hell he'd been ignoring the impulses and driving them away ever since they'd met in the library. And now, given the chance, if he was alone with her, he feared he'd ruin all his hard work and drive her away. He wouldn't be able to bear it if that happened. No, the best way was to escape, and fast.

Bidding a quick goodnight to Hermione, he followed Harry up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Hermione was going up the girls' staircase. She glanced his way too then, and smiled as their eyes met for the last time that day. 

__

But what a way to go, Ron thought with a pleased sigh as he lay awake in bed not much later. He knew he'd never forget the look in her eyes. Not the slightly shy, embarrassed, awkward look that hovered on the surface, but the deeper, buried on that revealed feelings Hermione probably didn't even realize she had. It was a "come-and-get-me look" if Ron ever saw one. 

"I'll come get you Hermione," he breathed to himself. And he would, someday. Someday soon._   
_

************************************


	4. Chapter 4

I Can't Fight This Feeling

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except maybe a few OCs. 

**__**

Chapter 4

********************************************************************************************

Saturday morning dawned bright and early, and Hermione found herself rising with the sun. She couldn't help herself; the moment she had awakened, an excited thrill had raced through her. She felt full of energy, full of _life. _

And she wasn't oblivious to the cause either. Today she was going to learn to play Quidditch. Today she was going to fly. And while she had disliked the idea at first, she had to admit it had its advantages. A certain red-haired, blue-eyed boy for example...

Yes, she couldn't deny it any longer. She liked Ron in a way she had never felt about anyone else. And today, she was going to get to spend practically a whole _day _with him. Alone.

She smiled to herself as she climbed out of bed, feeling a sharp tingle race up her spine at the thought of what lay ahead. "But what do I wear?" The words slipped from her lips without thought.

"Oh my God." Lavender Brown's head shot up from its pillow so fast that _Hermione_ almost felt dizzy. "Did I just hear what I think I heard?" Lavender continued, her voice unnecessarily loud, causing several of the other girls to stir in their sleep. "_Hermione Granger _worried about clothes?"

Six other heads jerked up, and Lavender grinned, having gained the desired affect. Hermione suddenly found herself surrounded by her roommates, each who was eyeing her speculatively and then gazing critically at her small wardrobe.

"What's the occasion?" Parvati Patil asked as she rummaged through Hermione's robes, studying this one, discarding that one.

"I-" Hermione felt her face flame. "Ron's teaching me how to play Quidditch," she admitted reluctantly.

"I knew it," Lavender squealed loudly, an excited grin on her face. "Not the Quidditch part of course," she added hastily, seeing Hermione's look. "I don't spy on you or anything. I mean the Ron part." She glanced around at the other girls, knowing they'd back her up. "I always said those two would end up together, didn't I?" Several heads nodded in agreement, and Lavender was encouraged to continue. "Besides, I saw you two in the library yesterday."

Hermione felt her face grow even warmer under the intense, interested stares of her six other roommates. "Ron and I are not...together." 

Lavender smirked. "Yeah, right. Whatever," she turned to look at the other girls. "He practically kissed her, right there in front of everyone-"

"Did not!" Hermione interrupted, angry that Lavender would exaggerate like that. 

"Did too," the other girl replied smugly, winking knowingly at the rest of them.

"Did not." Hermione ground her teeth together, struggling to stay calm. If what Lavender was saying got around..."Let's just get back to the subject of clothes, shall we?" she said, hoping to draw their attention away from a certain topic. 

It worked. 

"Okay, so a day of flying with your boyfriend," Parvati intoned. "Let's see what we've got."

"He's not my boy-"

"We know!" her housemates chorused, humouring her even as they rolled there eyes and shook their heads. Who did Hermione think she was fooling? Anyone- any _girl- _with half a brain could take one look at her face and know instantly that she liked the boy. It was that obvious. 

Hermione watched in silence as the girls sorted through her small collection of clothes, discarding most of them as soon as they saw them. 

After a few minutes of this frenzied searching, Parvati Patil, fashion queen extraordinaire. drew back in disgust. "Honestly, Hermione, don't you have _anything _decent to wear?"

Hermione gave her an irritated look. "What about this one?" she asked, fingering a long black robe, much like her regular school ones except that the bottom was wavy and the the cuffs were rimmed with gold. It was her favorite. 

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Hermione, it's ancient."

"I just got it last year!" Hermione protested. 

"Precisely," Lavender cut in, agreeing with Parvati. "It's a new year, Granger, and you're going to spend a whole day with a boy we all know you like, no matter how much you deny it. You need something light, something colorful..."

"I've got it." Parvati snapped her fingers. "Not exactly light, but it's just the thing. Remember that dark purple robe-" she began excitedly to Lavender. 

The other girl nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, that's perfect!"

"You mean the one you got at the beginning of this year?" Rhia, another sixth year, asked Parvati. "It was beautiful..."

"That's the one. Now," Parvati turned to Hermione. "You wait right here, and I'll get it out for you." She rushed across the room to her own bed, then came hurrying back a scant second later, holding the most beautiful robe Hermione had ever seen in front of her. "It'll probably have to have a no-wrinkle charm worked on it first, it's been in that trunk for weeks."

Hermione stared at it, longing to put it on. But..."I can't Parvati. Thanks for offering it to me, it's gorgeous, but...I'm going to play Quidditch. I don't want to get it dirty."

Parvati's nose wrinkled in distaste, as if she hadn't thought about that. "You're right, I guess...but what else will you wear?"

"I suppose I'll be better off just wearing one of my old black robes." There was a collective sigh of disappointment at those words, and Hermione immediately felt bad for having gotten them all up for nothing. "I'm sorry, its just-"

Lavender shook her head. "Don't say another word. There will be another time, you'll need our help I think. You'll want that robe someday."

Hermione looked at the other girl, wondering if that was just a guess, or if Lavender really knew something she didn't. If Harry and Ron were to be believed, the girl was _very _good in Divination class..."Okay," she finally agreed, not knowing what else to say. "I guess I'll just get ready then..."

She began to change clothes, and the other girls drifted away, most of them going back to bed now that the excitement was over. 

After changing, Hermione grabbed her broom and went quietly out the door, uncertain what she should do next. The events in the dormitory had taken no more than half an hour, so it was still very early. Should she wait in the common room for Ron to come downstairs, or...? She toyed with the idea she had in mind for a minute, debating with herself as she went down the stairs. Technically, girls weren't allowed in the boys' dormitory, but that had never stopped her before when she needed to speak with Ron and Harry. 

That thought decided her, and she grinned impishly as she began the decent to the boys' rooms. Who would have thought she, Hermione Granger, would ever have had the nerve to sneak up to see Ron on a less-than-life-threatening mission? But here she was, following her sudden impulse, and fully enjoying it. Maybe Ron was right. Maybe she did need to get away from her books more...

The door to the sixth year boys' room was easy enough the get into, a simple "Alohomora" did the trick nicely. Then it was just a matter of tip-toeing to Ron's bed and waking him up...

"Pssst, Ron," she hissed, shaking him slightly. No response. "Ron," she shook him a bit harder. He stirred slightly, but didn't open his eyes. Losing patience, Hermione whispered sternly, "Ronald Arthur Weasley!" 

That did the trick.

One of Ron's eyes cracked open, and he looked up, his eyes still blurred from sleep. "'Mione?" he asked through a yawn.

"Yes, it's me." She was smiling at him now. "I didn't want to wake the others. Come on, you're supposed to teach me how to fly today, remember?" 

Ron grinned suddenly, memory racing back to him. "Oh yeah!"

"Shhh," Hermione pressed her finger to his lips instinctively. "Be quiet or you'll wake everyone."

Ron's eyes widened at the slight pressure of her finger on his lips, and he was instantly wide awake. "Okay," he nodded, to show he understood, and Hermione pulled her finger away. He missed the warmth and tenderness of it immediately.

Motioning for her to step away, Ron carefully eased himself out of bed, making as little noise as possible. It wasn't until he tried to meet Hermione's eyes and noticed her averted gaze that he realized he was still in his pajamas. Well, what did that matter, she'd seen him in them a hundred times before. But Ron felt his own surge of embarrassment and knew that this time, for some reason, it _did _matter.

"I'll wait outside for you," Hermione whispered softly, and Ron nodded his agreement.

He meet her on the staircase, broom in hand, about two minutes later, having changed himself as quickly as possible without making too much noise. Hermione looked slightly relieved to see him properly dressed, though she said nothing of the kind. "Let's go." 

Ron followed her down the staircase, content to walk a step behind and just look at her. As they walked, he found himself remembering that look he had seen in her eye last night, and wondered if he had just imagined it. There certainly seemed to be no sign of it now in her direct, excited eyes. 

Apparently she was looking forward to learning more about Quidditch. _What could have changed her mind? _Ron asked himself. One minute she was entirely set against the whole thing, the next she seemed to think it was the greatest event since Hogwarts: A History was published_. _Strange.

But he wasn't about to voice his thoughts aloud; he was much too conscious of the fact that anything he said about the matter could change her mood, and he didn't want to do that when she seemed so happy.

They reached the Grounds without a word being said, but now Ron was grinning just as much as Hermione had been the whole way. Apparently, happiness is contagious. He laughed softly as he thought of all the moves he would teach her, all the techniques that good Quidditch players use. 

This was going to be fun. But first things first. He had to see how much about flying she already knew. 

He led her to the middle of the Quidditch field, swung his leg over his broomstick, and shot into the air. "Come on," he called down to her. "I know you know this part." 

Hermione grimaced. "You know I can't fly." Ron was getting more and more like Harry every day. They both made flying look so easy, so natural. Gathering her courage, Hermione straddled her own broom and rose smoothly from the ground. 

Ron's eyes widened in faint surprise. "Can't fly huh, 'Mione? That looked pretty good to me."

Hermione grinned in spite of herself. "No, see, you don't get it. I've always been good at that part: going up." She paused for effect. "It's the going down and around part I have trouble with."

Ron's laughter was like music to her ears, and her smile widened. 

Ron just looked at her, chuckling to himself. Hermione didn't crack jokes very much. She was usually much too serious. She should lighten up more often. "Okay, then we'll work on that first." He flew closer to her, bringing his broom up beside hers. "Now, follow me."

He started forward, and Hermione tried to follow him, but her broom just jerked a little, then settled again. "I can't do it, Ron," she said, a defeated tone in her voice. How many times had she tried this before, failing horribly each time? She should have known that today wouldn't be any different.

Ron glanced behind him, surprised to see that Hermione wasn't kidding. She really couldn't seem to get the broom to move...He flew back to her side again. "Okay, let's try this again. To get the broom to move forward, you have to lean-" 

"I know the theory, Ron," Hermione snapped impatiently, "I'm not stupid. It just doesn't work for me, that's all. The book says-"

Ron held up his hands. "Whoa, stop, hold it right there. No theory today, Hermione. Flying isn't something you can learn from a book, as you've obviously discovered for yourself. It's purely a trial-and-error activity, okay?"

Hermione nodded, wishing she hadn't snapped at him. It was just so frustrating!

"Today," Ron continued, "we're going to throw theory out the window. I don't want to hear one teeny tiny sentence that begins with the 'the book says', got it?" 

Hermione tried to keep a straight face, but knew she was failing miserably. "Aye, aye, Sir," she teased, giving into the grin. 

Ron smiled back, a light-hearted, encouraging smile that made Hermione feel as though she really _could _fly, with or without a broom. Or maybe _float _was a better word...

"Right. So, like I said, to go forward, you have to lean with the broom, like this." He demonstrated, and Hermione watched intently, determined to learn quickly. 

After a second, he flew back around to her side. "You're turn."

Hermione nodded, her face grim now, and tried to do as he'd said. But again, the broom simply jerked. 

Ron's head tilted to the side, watching her intently. "Try it again." 

She did, but with the same result. She looked up reluctantly, certain she would see disappointment in Ron's gaze, but when there eyes met, he seemed to be shaking with barely contained laughter. "What?" she asked, feeling rather idiotic.

Ron shook his head, not able to answer until the laughter left him. "I know what you're problem is." 

"You do?"

"Umhmm. You're so scared of going down, that when you lean forward, you immediately jerk the broom back up again." He smiled at her, not bothering to disguise his amusement. "You can't do that. Pulling the broom back up stops you. That's why you haven't been able to do anything."

"Oh," Hermione said in a small voice. Now she really felt stupid. 

Seeing her look, Ron smiled at her encouragingly. "But it's okay. Just remember to let the broom go. I know that it seems like you're going to go crashing down towards the ground when you first start moving forward, but once it gets going the broom straightens up on it own. Watch." He flew forward slowly, illustrating his point. "See?"

"I think so," Hermione nodded. 

"Good. Now, let's try it again, shall we? I'll even fly below you to catch you if you want," he said, only half-joking. If Hermione felt safer that way, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"N-no," Hermione refused. "That's okay. I'll do this myself."

Ron couldn't help but admire her courage. For someone who insisted that she hated flying, and was obviously very scared, she was very determined.

Hermione closed her eyes, opened them, and breathed deeply. Then, she leaned forward carefully. _I'm not going to fall, I'm not going to fall, I'm not going to-_

And she didn't. It was exactly how Ron had said it would be. The broom dipped down at first, but then straightened back up once the forward momentum was going. She clutched the broom so tightly her knuckles turned white, but she was grinning ecstatically. _I did it. I did it!_

She kept on flying, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice that she was reaching the end of the field, and that now she was past it, heading on out towards the Forbidden Forest. 

Only the sound of Ron's voice as he raced to catch up with her caught her attention. "Stop, Hermione, stop."

She glanced back, realizing with a feeling of distant terror how far she'd come. And she couldn't stop, she didn't know how...Ron had told her, she knew he had, but the feeling of horror was overwhelming; it clouded her mind and refused to let her think clearly. The only thing she could imagine was that she was just going to keep going and going, until the Forbidden Forest was the only thing in sight below her, until Hogwarts disappeared and she was all alone...

Then Ron was there, yelling at her to stop, but she still couldn't remember how. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and she gripped the broom harder than ever. 

And then suddenly, the broom jerked. _I'm going to die._

But she didn't, she didn't even fall off, because suddenly Ron's arm was around her waist, holding her tightly, securely, and she realized that the forward movement had stopped, and that she hung motionless in the air. She sobbed in relief then, head buried in Ron's shoulder, breaths coming in great shuddering gasps.

Ron held her close, letting her cry. His face had gone a chalky white color, and he was having trouble breathing himself. His heart was racing so fast he didn't think it would ever slow down, and his palms were slick with sweat. 

God, why hadn't he been more careful? He had thought that Hermione would realize how to stop, had thought that she was capable of it. And she was, he knew; when she wasn't paralyzed with fear. He should have stayed close, should have flown right beside her the whole way so that she wouldn't have frozen.

Hermione's sobs were fading, and though she was still shaking slightly, she raised her head from Ron's chest enough to look up at him. "S-sorry," she stammered, a wave of shame coming over her now that she was thinking clearly again. She'd just cried in his arms, like a little baby. What must he think of her now? 

"Shh," Ron soothed, his voice calm and comforting. "It's alright now, I've got you. You're safe."

Hermione nodded, and allowed herself to rest on his shoulder again. He was right. The feeling of security, or safety, surrounded her like a warm blanket, and she found herself wishing they could stay there, just like this, for the rest of there lives. But that was crazy of course, pure nonsense...

She tried to pull away, but found she couldn't. Ron's arm was locked around her like a vice, and she could only sit there, staring at him.

The look on his face had her shaking again, trembling, but this time, it wasn't from fear. At least, it wasn't from the I'm-going-to-die fear. No, this kind of fear was much more subtle, but just as instinctive. 

Oh God, he's going to kiss me...

Their eyes met, and Ron hesitated. _Do you want me to? _his eyes seemed to ask.

Her own reply was quick and too the point. She leaned forward, closing the space between them until there was no distance anymore, or time either. As their lips met for the very first time, the world around them stilled, quieted, and faded into the background. It was as if a great mist had suddenly sprung up around them, cloaking all the world in its thick cape. Everything except them, that was.

**__**

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars forever

He kissed her gently, oh so gently, not even trying to go deeper, as if he was afraid that that would ruin the sweetness of the moment. Hermione responded in kind, her head tilting complacently to one side and her eyes closing in pleasure. So this was what it felt like to be kissed...

**__**

Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor

Come crashing through the door

Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore

Ron pulled away at the last possible moment, leaving them both gasping for breath. They were still up in the air, Hermione realized then, having forgotten that little fact in the intensity of the moment. She felt the fear return to her. 

"Can we- " 

"Go down now?" Ron finished for her, seeing the look on her face and knowing what she wanted.

Hermione nodded, relieved that he seemed so ready to comply.

"Sure," Ron answered. Then, "Do you want to do it yourself, or do you want me to guide you down slowly?"

Hermione looked at him, feeling suddenly shy. "Would you?"

Ron nodded vigorously. Of course he would, how could he not...? His mind raced as he took hold of her broom and guided her gently back to the Quidditch Pitch and the ground. A rush of images and emotions coursed through him, and as he shot a glance at the girl next to him, who was gazing anywhere but in his direction, Ron felt his blood grow warm all over again. 

Their feet touched the ground, and Ron helped Hermione off her broom, holding her hand steadily. As soon as she was safely back on solid earth, he jumped down beside her, and pulled her into his arms.

He felt her tense, and wondered immediately if that had been the wrong thing to do. Then she relaxed, melting into him like butter when it's set out in the sun. He did nothing, simply held her there for a long moment, wondering if he dare kiss her again.

Why don't you just ask her?

"Can I kiss you again, 'Mione?" he found himself asking as he tilted her chin up so that she was forced to look at him. 

Hermione felt a wave of impishness rush through her when she realized that not only did Ron want to kiss her again, he thought he needed to ask her permission first! "I don't know, Ron..." she said, pretending to have to consider it.

"Please?" his voice was so soft the Hermione barely heard it.

"Well, in that case, it's alright I gue-" 

She didn't even get to finish her sentence because as soon as Ron heard the word 'alright' he brought his lips crashing down on hers with such force Hermione pulled back, startled.

Instantly, Ron froze, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I mean, I shouldn't have-"

Hermione shook her head, relaxing again, and immediately regretted her jumpiness. "No, don't apologize, it wasn't you. I was just startled, that's all."

"Oh," Ron breathed, his face flooding with relief. Then he grinned at her sheepishly. "Can I try that again?"

"Hmm," Hermione considered, toying with him. "Maybe later."

Ron's face fell, and Hermione was never so reminded of a puppy who'd lost his bone. "Oh. Alright then..."

"For now, it's breakfast time," Hermione reminded him. 

Ron's face lightened. "Hey, you're right. And I'm starving." 

He smiled at her then, and Hermione had never felt more strongly that everything was _right _in the world. "Shall we go then?" 

"Lets," Ron said, picking up both of their brooms, obviously intending to carry hers for her. 

But Hermione shook her head. "Let me," she told him, taking her broom in one hand. Then, with the other, she grabbed his free hand, feeling a delicious tingle shoot up her spine as his large, warm fingers settled around hers. "Now we can go," she said with a smile, feeling perfectly content.

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A/N: That's it for a couple more days! Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers from the last chapter:

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andrea912004;Eiraugcam Suruaseht (did this chapter answer your question? lol);cat-chan (thank you for the many compliments, they're much appreciated. And the story is going to be seven chapters long. By no means an epic, but I didn't plan for it to be.);kneh13(oh, you're going to review this story for me too! Thanks bunches!);Audrey;Line-from Denmark(two days isn't really _that _long, is it? *grins*);Snowdevil44s; and ThinkingOfaName 

You're all fantastic! Keep reviewing please!

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter 5

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After breakfast, Ron and Hermione headed back to the Quidditch field. Hermione was a bit wary about leaving the ground again, but Ron convinced her in the end, and she found herself hanging in the air once more. 

"Okay," Ron instructed softly, his head mere inches away from her and his breath stirring her hair slightly. "This time, when you want to stop, just pull up on the end of your broom gently." He demonstrated. "Got it?"

"I've got it," Hermione replied, a determined look in her eyes. She was going to get it right this time. There was however, one little problem..."But you're really going to have to move away if you want me to do anything. I can't think with you this close." 

Ron's face dimpled in a smile as he pulled back, and Hermione dragged her eyes away from the sight. She had to concentrate. 

She started off slowly, crawling along at a snail's pace. Then she pulled up lightly on the broom, managing to bring it to a stop, albeit a rough one. 

"Good!" Ron's voice called encouragement to her. He hadn't left her side this time; he followed her closely, allowing her just enough room to maneuver. "That was great, Hermione, let's try it again."

And so it went. Hour after hour, day after day, week after week Hermione worked on learning to fly and play Quidditch. They practiced in any spare time they had, and once Ron deemed her able to fly well enough, she began practicing with the Quidditch team. She was supposed to play a Chaser, which, though challenging, in many ways was nowhere near as hard as Harry or Ron's job. At first, the team was completely discouraged at her lack of skills, but she learned quickly, and did well enough to start earning their gruding respect. 

A comment often heard around the field after that was, "Hermione: our Rookie of the Century." 

The first time she heard it she was on her way out of the changing rooms after a Saturday practice, and it was being whispered by several first years who were clustered around the entrance to the field. 

"I take it that's a compliment, no?" she had asked with a laugh as she came up behind them unexpectedly. 

The boys jumped in surprise, swinging around to face her. Their eyes widened, and then they grinned at her.

"Guess it is," one of them spoke up, "it was Fred and George that told it to us." They walked off in a group.

Aha. So that was where _that _little nickname came from. Needless to say, she wasn't entirely displeased. It was kind of cute, actually. 

She smiled to herself, and was about to walk away, when a hand around her waist stopped her. "There you are, my little Rookie of the Century." 

Hermione laughed, slapping Ron's hand away at the same time. "Ro-on..."

He chuckled, taking his hand away. "Let's go get some lunch, shall we?" 

Harry met them in the Great Hall, and demanded immediately to be informed of Hermione's progress. He hadn't been able to make practice that day because of an extra, last minute assignment he'd been given by Snape. 

Ron was pleased to oblige, while Hermione sat quietly, more worried about filling her stomach than talking. She did have to speak up towards the end of the conversation however, when Ron began to repeat himself.

"She was brilliant, Harry. Bloody brilliant. She's learning the game like a natural, and her flying's improved dramatically, though we'll be working on it more after lunch. I'm sure she'll do well. She's brilliant..."

Now, while Hermione didn't mind hearing herself praised every now and then, Ron was getting a bit carried away. "Ron!" she'd interrupted after about the fourth time he said something along the same line. "Shut up."

"Thank you!" Harry said loudly, causing several of the closest students to grin. They'd all been getting pretty tired of the conversation themselves. 

Ron quieted instantly, looking a bit hurt. He recovered quickly though, and grinned charmingly at Hermione. "What'll you give me if I do?" 

The tone of his voice invoked numerous chuckles from around the table, and Hermione felt her face go red. "Ron," she hissed, elbowing him in the ribs where no one could see. 

But they didn't need to see. Ron's loud exclamation was enough to insure that. "Geez, Hermione, what was that for? I was only teasing."

"Well please don't," she replied, her voice lowered so no one else could hear. 

"Why not?" Ron protested. "We're _together _now aren't we?" Had been for weeks. Though come to think of it, she never had seemed to like him showing his affection in public. Didn't seem to bother her a bit when they were alone though. What was going on with her? She seemed, well, embarrassed. Normally, that was an emotion Ron could sympathize with, but not right now. What was there to be embarrassed about?

"Well, yes, I expect we are, but-" Hermione tried to explain how she felt, knowing she was failing miserably. How could she explain something _she _didn't even really understand? She just felt this overwhelming urge to keep it quiet, to savor it just a little longer as their own little secret...But she couldn't really find the words to tell _him _that. He'd probably think it was stupid...

"Are you _embarrassed_, Hermione?" Ron asked quietly. He didn't need to add "of me?" It hung in the silence with all the shape and form of a physical object.

"No, of course not," Hermione assured him quickly. How could she ever be embarrassed of him? He was amazing, and funny, and smart, and sensitive...not to mention _really _cute. There wasn't a single thing about him to be embarrassed about. Well, okay, maybe there were a few things, everyone had their faults after all. But how could he even think such a thing? Didn't he know her any better than that? 

Hermione was seized by a sudden wild impulse to disprove his suspicion, to stand up right there in front of everyone and kiss him full on the lips, but she fought it down. That was way too dramatic... 

"Then why did what I said bother you?" His tone was no less even, but there was an undercurrent in it that scared her. Why couldn't he just believe her? 

"Ron," she began, trying to ignore all the curious looks people were beginning to shoot their way. Even Harry looked slightly interested. "I don't think this is a good time or place to talk about this..."

Ron's eyebrow lifted with sarcasm. "Oh really? And when would you suggest?"

His tone irked her, and Hermione found herself growing upset. What was his problem? All she'd asked him not to do was make insinuating suggestions in front of their friends, was anything so wrong with that? 

Standing abruptly, Hermione left the table. She needed to be alone, to think. And she couldn't do that if Ron was going to act like a..a..a great prat! He wouldn't even wait to let her explain, he just automatically assumed that she was embarrassed of him. Well, if he wanted to sulk in self pity, let him! She had other things she could do. A whole pile of homework was waiting for her for one thing...

Ron stared, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Hermione left. That was it? She was just going to get up and walk away? He started to follow her, then stopped himself. No, she was probably expecting him to do just that, and right now he didn't feel like going along with anything she wanted.

Part of him wondered what was wrong with him, if he was going crazy, but another part, the one that had more control right then, was insisting that he'd done nothing wrong. Why should he go after her? He'd just asked her a simple question, after all, she didn't have to storm out like he'd just given her the biggest insult in the world. If she wasn't embarrassed, then why did she care if he touched her in public. He wasn't even really asking for much, just an arm around her waist now and then, a quick kiss...

He dragged himself from his thoughts to find Harry staring at him. "What?"

"Aren't you going to go after her?" his friend asked, glancing towards the doorway where Hermione had just vanished.

Ron settled himself back in his seat and picked up his fork, preparing to finish his meal. "No."

Harry looked surprised, and not just a little uneasy. "Why not?"

Ron shrugged, as if he could care less about the whole incident. "She was the one who walked out."

Harry didn't say anything else, just shook his head. There was a storm brewing, he could feel it already. And all over one tiny misunderstanding. 

Ron spent several moments trying to act casual and force his fork into his mouth, but he seemed to have suddenly lost his appetite. He tried once more, then shoved the plate away in disgust. 

"I'm going outside to practice some more," he said tersely, standing up. "I'll see you at dinner."

Ron spent the rest of the afternoon trying to practice, but he was playing horribly. And he wasn't so dense he didn't realize the reason either. Cursing under his breath, he finally brought his broom to the ground after two hours of wasted effort. He couldn't play when he was distracted, and he had been distracted ever since Hermione had walked out of the Great Hall.

Sitting on the shore of the lake, he replayed the earlier conversation over in his mind. Had he really said anything horrible enough to evoke that kind of reaction in her?

Then it hit him. Maybe it wasn't so much as what he had said, as what he had implied. Hermione thought he didn't trust her! And in all honesty, he really hadn't tried to give her the chance to explain. She'd wanted to talk after they finished eating, but in his burst of self-righteous pride, Ron had demanded an answer then and there.

Hermione had simply refused to give it to him.

God, he was such an idiot. 

Well, if he knew Hermione, she wasn't going to apologize to him first. If any kind of resolve was going to be reached, he'd have to be the one to make the move. Even knowing that as he did, it took him over half an hour to let go of his pride and gather the nerve to talk to her. Hermione could be quite...difficult- to say the least- when she was mad.

But he eventually _did _pull himself to his feet, determined to speak to her. Ron brushed the dirt off his robe and walked back inside.

**__**

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you

I've been running around in circles in my mind

And it always seems that I'm following you, girl

Cause you take me to the places that alone I'd never find

Hermione left the library hurriedly, having gotten very little actual work done. She'd been too busy thinking about how she could patch the situation with Ron up. After some deep thought, she'd realized that she herself had probably been wrong to walk out the way she had, but there was no changing that now. No, the only thing she could possibly do now was try to talk to him, to get him to understand why she'd acted the way she ha-

Something hit her in the side, knocking her books out of her hands. Somebody had run into her. No, scratch that, she'd run into somebody. She was the one who hadn't been watching where she was going...

"Sorry, Seamus," she apologized, stooping to pick up her books. 

Seamus Finniggan bent down to help. "Nah, it was my fault Hermione. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Neither was I," she admitted with a laugh. 

Seamus grinned. "I suppose I'll share the blame with you then." He handed her the last of her books back, and they both stood up. 

"Deal," Hermione agreed. She opened her mouth to ask him something, then shut it again. He probably wouldn't know anyway...

But Seamus had caught the look. "What is it, Hermione?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Oh, nothing really," she said vaguely, but Seamus didn't buy it; she could tell by the look he was giving her. She gave in. "Have you seen, Ron?" 

He frowned. "Not since after lunch." He regarded her closely. "I take it you two haven't patched things up yet, then?" 

Hermione shook her head, her chagrin evident on her face. "No, not yet." She started to walk away, giving him a slight wave as she did so, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

She glanced back at him, curious. 

"You've got to speak to him, Hermione, you know that right? I haven't seen him since lunch, but he looked pretty upset then, and if I know him at all, he probably still is." 

"I know," Hermione replied. "But I've got to find him first."

Seamus nodded, then gave her a wink. "Good luck then." He turned and retreated down the hallway. 

Hermione laughed, but the sound died on her lips the moment she turned around.

Ron stood in the corridor, glaring at her. "Getting a little cozy there with Seamus, weren't you?"

Hermione tried to stop the angry retort that rose from her lips, but it burst from her anyway. "No, actually, I wasn't. But if I had been, that's _my _business."

Ron's eyes spit flames. Then suddenly, abruptly, the fire was gone, and all that was left was a deadly cold in his ice-blue eyes. "You're right. It is you're business, Hermione. Don't let _me _get in the way."

Hermione's heart jumped into her throat as she watched him turn and walk away. Why couldn't she ever control that mouth of hers when it mattered?!! 

"Ron," she called after him, but he ignored her. "Ron!" she tried again, rushing to catch up with him and grab his arm. He shrugged her off as though she were an embodiment of The Plague itself and kept walking. 

Oh damn, damn, damn! What had she done? Unable to keep down the despairing sob that rose up in her throat then, Hermione covered her face

with her hand and fled the scene.

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A/N: Yes, a bit of a cliffie there, lol. I'm going to try to put the next chapter up tommorrow, because I don't know if I'll have time to do it Saturday like I normally would. I usually help my dad in his shop on the weekends, so I'm pretty busy. Thanks to all my loyal reviewers, please keep up the very good work!

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kneh13;Eiraugcam Suruaseht;cat-chan (You're very welcome, even if I didn't mean to do it, lol. I'm glad you like Ron and Hermione, I was worried about keeping them in-character. Hopefully I'm succeeding.);Line-From Denmark (Yes, Ron is sweet!);Curlsof Gold;martha (Thanks, I will!);Hermione30 (Yes, I thought it was about time we got to see Hermione flying. *grins* And thank you so much for the tip, I went back and tried to correct the third and fourth chapters for mistakes, and I payed special attention to this one, so hopefully it was better!);Fallon;Kadizel05 (The story's not over yet!);ThinkingOfaName (Thanks, I'm glad you liked it.)


	6. Chapter 6

I Can't Fight This Feeling

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter 6

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The first match of the season was scheduled for one week later, on a Saturday afternoon. It was Gryffindor v. Slytherin, and the whole school would be turning out to watch the game. Already they were gathering in the stands; chattering excitedly about the upcoming match, placing bets, holding signs for team favorites. There was, however, one person was missing.

Hermione sat on the window seat in the girls' dormitory, trying to decide whether to go or not. A week ago, the decision would have been obvious, but now she didn't know if she could face Ron. She'd been avoiding him all week, becoming almost as much of a loner as she had been before Harry and Ron saved her from the troll back in First Year. She'd even avoided Harry, knowing that wherever he was, Ron was sure to be close by. She walked to classes alone, sat as far away from Ron as possible, and even found herself sitting with Ginny and her group of friends a little way down the Gryffindor table from her usual spot. 

She came to the conclusion that that might not have been such a brilliant idea the second day she joined them. All they seemed to want to talk about was who was going to the Yule Ball with who. Even Ginny, who normally seemed much more mature, chattered on about it endlessly, the girls discussing what they would wear, and how they would have their hair done. It was rather depressing, actually. A few weeks earlier, she had entertained hopes of going with Ron, but now that was out of the question. 

Her actions didn't go unnoticed. The whole of Gryffindor was talking about it, as well as a generous portion of the other houses. Even Slytherin had their gossips. Rumor's abounded about the couple's "split", and while some of them came close to the truth, nobody except she and Ron knew the real story. 

She often found herself reliving those moments, wishing she could go back and change everything from lunch onwards. Where was a stupid time-turner when you needed one? Maybe she could get her old one back from McGonagall...But the Transfiguration Professor would never allow it. Too bad though, it might have worked...

Then she wouldn't be forced to look at Ron's angry face every day. It was bad enough to have to endure the mental torture she inflicted on herself, constantly regretting her unthinking words and actions, but it was worse to be constantly reminded of it every time she saw him. He never just looked at her anymore; just glared. And then Hermione would have to come up with some excuse to leave the room very quickly or she feared she'd break down into tears in front of everyone. 

And all the while, her mind kept repeating the same thing: _If only, if only, if only, if on-_

But it was no use. She couldn't go back in time and change what had happened; there was only the future. 

A knock sounded on the door then, and Hermione's head jerked up at the sound. Who could that be? She thought everyone had left...

She opened the door a crack, peeking out. There were certain people she _really _didn't want to talk to right now. Lavender and Parvati for instance, who had been hounding her for "The Ron Story," as they called it, all week. But it was only Seamus.

"Hi," she said, pushing the door open farther. "What are you doing here?"

Seamus regarded her levelly. "I could ask you the same question."

Hermione bit her lip and glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable. "Look, I know I should be out there, but-"

"Damn right you should be. So what are you doing in here?" He stuck his head through the door, noting that there wasn't a book in sight. "Not studying I'll wager."

Hermione shrugged. "I can't do it, Seamus. It'll be the first time I've faced him in-"

"A week," he finished for her. "I know. That's what I came to talk to you about. Can I...?" he asked, gesturing toward a cluster of nearby chairs. 

Hermione nodded and followed him over, taking a seat beside him. 

Seamus hesitated a moment, then went on. "I know you two had some kind of row-" he faltered, unable to meet her eyes for a second. "but you can't spend the rest of your lives avoiding one another. Sooner or later you'll have to face him, and if I were you, I 'd go ahead and get it over with as soon as possible."

"You're not me." Hermione crossed her arms, ashamed of the sulking tone in her voice but unable to help it.

Seamus sighed, running a hand through his dark brown hair and causing it to stick up in places. "You're right," he said. "I'm not. But, Hermione, you can't just think of only yourself right now. The whole team, the whole _house,_ is depending on you. You're not going to let us down are you?" 

"Oh, so you're here speaking on behalf of the rest of Gryffindor are you?" Hermione found herself suddenly angry. He didn't really care about her feelings at all, he was just worried Gryffindor was going to lose the bloody game! "Well, the entire lot of you can just sod off! I'm not coming." She crossed her arms even tighter and sank back into the chair, determined to stay right there until the game was over. Who cared if Slytherin won because she didn't show up?

"Hermione-" Seamus began, but she cut him off.

"Just leave."

Seamus stood up slowly, his eyes still fastened on her face, even though she refused to look at him. "You know I'm not just here for the team, Hermione. I'm here for you too." In spite of herself, Hermione found her eyes being drawn to him, and when he knelt down in front of her she couldn't resist glancing at him.

It was her undoing. His eyes met and held hers as he continued. "You're tearing yourself up inside, and Ron's hurting too. He doesn't talk to me anymore-I have a pretty good idea why- but I can see it just the same, Hermione. He needs you as much as you need him. You _have _to talk to him."

Hermione found tears welling in her eyes, and she blinked hastily, trying to force them away. They fell anyway, and suddenly she found herself throwing her arms around Seamus and just sitting there, sobbing. 

Seamus tensed, surprised at first, but then he relaxed, and put his arms around her awkwardly, making soothing noises and patting her back until she quieted. 

Hermione pulled herself away from him after a moment, uncomfortably reminded of the time Ron had held her in almost the same way, letting her cry in his arms until she couldn't cry anymore. But that had been different than what she felt now. When Ron had held her, it had felt natural, and right. Just perfect. When Seamus held her, it felt right too, but in a different way. Seamus was a good friend, but that was all he would ever be. 

"Sorry," she mumbled, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Got a little carried away I guess," she added with a small, shaky laugh and a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

Seamus grinned back, relieved that she had stopped crying and trying his best not to look it. "No problem. I was going to change robes before the game anyway."

This statement, so obviously a lie, had Hermione really smiling. "Liar."

Seamus tilted his head to one side, considering. "Yeah," he replied simply with a little nod of his head. "Suppose I am."

Hermione laughed again, and Seamus took the opportunity to pull both himself and her to their feet. "So what are you going to do?" he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

"Are you joking?" Hermione smiled. "I've got a game to get to, haven't I?"

"You mean, if it hasn't already started without you?" Seamus teased. Horror flooded Hermione's eyes and he laughed jovially. "No, you've still got time, if you hurry."

She nodded in relief, her mind already racing. Where was her broomstick? And she had to change into her Quidditch robes...

"I'll leave you to it, then," Seamus said, catching the look in her eye. He started towards the door, but stopped when she called him back. "Yes?"

"I...I.." Hermione couldn't think of any words to really thank him enough, so she leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek instead, and settled for a simple, "thank you".

Seamus flushed, and started to reply, but a cold voice interrupted them.

"Getting a quick good luck kiss in there are you, Hermione?" Ron's voice had never seemed so ominous, and his face wore a similarly angry expression. 

"I-I-" Hermione stammered, her heart leaping into her throat and finding herself unable to form a single coherent sentence through the swirling cloud of thoughts and emotions that were racing through her mind.

"I think I'll go now," Seamus said uncomfortably, quickly retreating towards the door and squeezing around Ron, who refused to move and was glaring at his housemate like he'd just committed a deadly sin. The sound of his footsteps could be heard as he went quickly down the stairs, growing fainter and fainter until the finally disappeared completely.

And then they were alone.

Hermione tried to keep herself from trembling, but all the emotions she'd been bottling up for the past week came bubbling to the surface, and she felt that if it would do her any good, she'd throw herself into Ron's arms right then and start babbling apologies. 

But one look at his face was enough to show her that it wouldn't. "What are you still doing up here?" he asked, his voice hard and distant. "Besides the obvious, I mean."

Hermione took a deep breath to calm her shaking and collect her thoughts. She'd made too many mistakes before with her rash words, and she couldn't allow that to happen again. If she wanted to make amends with Ron- if that was even possible anymore after what he thought he had just seen- then she was going to have to phrase her words carefully. "I was about to get ready."

"With Seamus in here?" 

"Of course not!" she protested angrily, the words spewing from her lips like venom. "That has to be one of the stupidest things-" She stopped abruptly then, realizing what she was doing. "I mean," she tried again carefully, "No, Ron, I was about to get ready right _after _Seamus left." She gazed at him coolly, waiting to see what he would do. 

"So you're coming to the game?" He seemed surprised.

"Yes, Ron, I'm coming." She waited, but he didn't say anything else. Just looked at her, his head tilted slightly to one side, as if he didn't quite know what to make of her. She gave him a small smile, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw something akin to hope in his eyes, but then it was gone, and the hard, stony expression was back.

****

Good," he said. "Now I don't have to drag you down there. But you'd better hurry," he added as he walked out the door, "because if you aren't on the field in exactly five minutes, I _will _come back and _make_ you come." The door shut behind him with a clang, emphasizing his words. He was not exaggerating.

Hermione had never changed as quickly in her life as she did then, even risking detention to get to the field faster by flying out the window instead of going through the castle. She made sure to land far enough away so that most people didn't notice her arrival, however. 

Pushing her way through the still-gathering crowd of students, all vying for the best seats, she reached the spot where the rest of her teammates were gathered. A collective sigh of relief came from them all at her appearance. 

"'Bout time, Granger," Ashley Simmons, a fourth year, muttered loudly. 

Hermione offered an apologetic shrug. "Sorry I'm late." She didn't look at Ron.

Harry moved close to her, his face betraying his uneasiness. "You all right?" he asked in a soft voice so that no one else could overhear them. It was the same question he's been wanting to ask her all week, but hadn't quite dared. She'd seemed too upset, too...well, emotionally unstable for any such conversation. But now, when Harry looked at her, she seemed quieter somehow, more resigned to her fate or something. It shook him almost as badly as when he first heard-or rather saw, because neither of them ever told him exactly what had happened- the results of their fight in the corridor. 

"I'm fine." Hermione smiled slightly, but it was a smile without life, without energy, and it was far from reassuring. 

What else could he say though? He settled for saying nothing, simply laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly before walking away. 

Hermione watched in a vague sort of way as he placed himself in front of all of them, but forced herself to pay attention when he started speaking. She was part of the team now, after all, and was supposed to listen to the little pre-game speeches Harry gave them. But she did wish he'd hurry up. The sooner he finished, the sooner the game could start, and then the sooner it would be over.

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Ron listened to Harry with barely concealed impatience, wishing his friend would shut up, but knowing that Harry had a duty as captain of the team to fulfill. Fortunately, Harry wrapped things up fairly quickly, and the game got underway.

The first half-hour was more or less as games normally did. A few points scored on both sides, but neither on gaining a distinct advantage. When he wasn't busy guarding the goals as Keeper, Ron found his eyes being drawn towards the bushy haired, dark-eyed Chaser. No matter how much he wanted to be mad at her, he couldn't help but watch her whenever he got the chance. She was playing remarkably well, for someone who couldn't even properly ride a broomstick a month ago, a Ron felt a surge of pride as he watched her. He'd done a pretty good job with her, hadn't he?

At least in that area. The other, more personal matters between them hadn't turned out so well. He couldn't understand it. He finally had the girl he'd wanted since fourth year, one of his best friends no less, and suddenly all they did was fight. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't completely _sudden. _They'd fought plenty of times in the past, but most of them had been more or less arguments. Not out-and-out-won't-even-talk-to-one-another fights. 

He knew part of it was his fault, he admitted that willingly, at least to himself. But he couldn't help it if he had caught her and Seamus in the hall. She was his girlfriend, what was he supposed to do? Shrug it off and say that it was no big deal? But it was. It was a big deal to him. When he'd saw Seamus touch her arm in the hall, and then wink at her like that, he'd seen red. He'd been so jealous he couldn't even think straight. How dare he touch her? The boy was lucky Ron hadn't went after him then and there. Instead, he had taken his anger out on Hermione. And why shouldn't he have? 

Then this morning-

Ron's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the screaming of the crowd and the yelling of his teamates. A Slytherin Chaser was headed straight for the middle ring, and Ron was no where near close enough to block the goal. He jerked his broom around and sped into position, but it was too late; the Quaffle flew through the hoop and Slytherin gained a ten point lead.

__

Damn it, Ron cursed himself. _Pay attention, Weasley. You've got plenty of time to think about the girl after we've won this game. _Ron turned his concentration back to the game with a vengeance.

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The action was getting intense now. The two bludgers seemed to be everywhere at once, and Hermione would have sworn they seemed to be coming at her more often then anyone else. Was the Slytherin team trying to take advantage of her inexperience? With Draco Malfoy as their Captain, and a new Beater. she wouldn't put it past them. 

__

Where'd that sneaky prat get to anyway? she wondered absently as she maneuvered into position beside a Slytherin Chaser. She came up behind him and just a bit to his left, where he couldn't quite see her without turning around completely. Then, as he started to throw the ball, she put on a burst of speed and knocked it from his grasp in that one brief instant when his grip was the most precarious. Diving down after it, she caught the Quaffle in her arms and raced back towards the Gryffindor goal posts.

She urged her broom faster, ducking and dodging Slytherin Chasers and a bludger. Her movements were still a bit jerky, but she was getting there. The goal posts drew closer, and she thought furiously, trying to judge which way to go would give her the best chance of scoring. She chose the center hoop. The Slytherin Keeper was positioned directly in front of it, so he wouldn't be expecting that. 

Carefully, she turned her broom like she was positioning herself to take a shot at the left hoop, waited until the Slytherin moved to block her, then jerked the broom around and down, diving under him and straight back up to toss the ball through the hoop.

The resulting cheers from her teammates and Gryffindor fans alike rang in her ears, and she smiled broadly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy glaring at her, his eyes narrowed. She turned to face him, her smile turning into a pleased smirk. The expression turned even more smug as she heard the announcement that the game was over. Harry had caught the snitch. And Gryffindor had won.

She veered away from the Slytherin Captain, taking secret pleasure in his barely contained fury. _I showed him! He thought I'd be horrible, but I bloody well wasn't!_

She searched the faces of her teammates gathered a little way down the field, and looked unconsciously for the shock of red hair she knew must be there somewhere. And then she found him, and he was looking at her too. There eyes met, and it was the strangest thing, because even as she smiled at him, she saw his eyes go wide and an expression of horror cover his face. _Weir-_

The bludger came out of nowhere. Hermione never even saw it. All she knew was that one moment she was flying down to join her teamates, the next an extraordinary pain had exploded in her left side, spreading like wildfire through the rest of her body. The breath was gone from her lungs, and she couldn't seem to be able to get it back. The rest of her felt funny too, and with an odd kind of detachment, she realized that her hands were slipping off the handles, and she was starting to tilt way too far to the right. Her mind was fuzzy, and though she knew she should try to straighten up, to hold tighter to the broom, her body had stopped obeying her commands. 

I can't even hold my hands right, she thought, giving a silent, choking, hysterical laugh. In the back of her mind, the part that was still functioning correctly through the haze of pain, she knew it wasn't really funny, and terrified tears poured from her eyes as she toppled from her broom, helpless to stop it.

And then there was a rushing of air in her ears and her mind went blank. Darkness claimed her. 

**__**

And even as I wonder, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the wind, on a cold, dark, winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might 

Ron watched Hermione steal the Quaffle right out from under the filthy Slytherin's nose and go speeding back towards the Gryffindor goals. _Go Hermione, go! _he urged silently, willing the girl to score. That would put them even with Slytherin again; sixty to sixty.

When she dodged the Slytherin Keeper in a brilliant move Ron had no idea she was capable of and sent the red ball spinning through the center hoop, Ron shouted in delight. Yes! Now the game was tied...

"Gryffindor wins!" came the excited cry from the announcer. "Harry Potter has caught the snitch!" 

Okay, so the game was _over_. He grinned in happy relief and headed across the field to meet his cheering teammates. He was almost there when a thought struck him: Where was Hermione? He searched the ecstatic faces that were already gathered, but couldn't find her anywhere. _She must still be in the air._

He turned to look, just in time to see Draco Malfoy glaring furiously at someone. Then the Slytherin boy raised his club and hit a hovering bludger so hard Ron thought he was going to fall off his own broom in the effort. Ron's stomach fluttered, and he suddenly got a sickening feeling in his gut...

Ron followed the other boy's line of vision, wanting to see what the object of his rage was but almost not daring to look. His suspicions were correct. 

Ron met Hermione's eyes, horror dawning in his features. He watched as if in slow motion as the bludger struck her in the side, watched as her smile faded abruptly and a look of intense pain and confusion replaced it. And he watched her start to fall...

The crowd had gone deadly silent, and all eyes were on the lifeless figure that was falling through the air, the ground rushing up to meet her...And then she was flying, flying through the air in the arms of a boy with brilliant red hair, a boy who could very well have come out of thin air for all that they saw of his approach. 

But he hadn't come out of thin air, he'd darted into action the moment Hermione had begun falling, swooping underneath her with a speed and a purpose that not even Harry displayed when reaching for the snitch. 

And then he had caught her, just seconds before she would have hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Later, he would wonder where all the Professors had been, and why they hadn't done anything. And later, too, he remember that a staff meeting had been called, so there were fewer Professors present than usual, and that the ones that had been there had been in no position to do anything with a crowd of teeming students around them.

But for now, there was only the wide-open sky around him and Hermione. The feel of her limp body in his arms was alarming, to say the least, and Ron was so scared he thought he'd drop her himself if he didn't get his hands to stop shaking. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from the awful sight of her closed eyes and still face. He had to get her to the Hospital Wing, or at the very least back to the ground. 

He landed as close to the castle as he could, with Harry coming up right behind him. Both dropped their brooms on the ground and rushed inside. 

Madame Pomfrey was waiting for them in the Hospital Wing. How she had learned what had happened so quickly Ron never knew, but she was there and ready to help, and that was all that mattered. 

After making sure Hermione was settled in a bed, and that Madame Pomfrey was taking care of her, Ron headed back out the door, his pace quick, but purposeful. 

Harry glanced around after him, surprised. "Where are you going? Aren't you going to stay with her?"

Ron didn't look back, his eyes narrowed in anger and focused on something Harry couldn't see. "I'll be back later. I've got something to take care of."

Harry's eyebrows rose in confusion, and he felt a trill of alarm rush through him. Ron wouldn't leave Hermione right now unless it was very, _very _important. "What?"

Ron's answer was short and to the point, and said in such a tone that Harry felt his insides grow cold.

"Malfoy." 

*****************************************

A/N: Well, hopefully I've left you with another cliff hanger; I intended to! *grins evilly* So, what happens next? You'll just have to wait and find out. The next chapter will be out Wednesday. Thanks to all my wonderful, fantastic, amazing, brilliant-I could go on and on- reviewers. Reading your comments really makes my day! 

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kneh13 (yes, that's exactly what he thought! Don't you love the way people just jump to conclusions-often incorrect ones-sometimes?);cat-chan (I just love reading your reviews, they always make me laugh! Thanks for the vote of confidence too, I hope you won't be disappointed. And the song's great, isn't it?); ThinkingOfaName (Thank you, that is the best complement you can give a fanfiction writer, honestly.); Line- from Denmark (Glad I've still got your interest, lol); hp/charmed obsesed (It's quite simple really, I just upload the story in HTML format.)

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	7. Chapter 7

**__**

Chapter 7

***************************************************************************************************

Ron struggled to calm himself as he walked down the corridors, shoving his way around crowds of students unseeingly. He had to get some control over his roiling emotions or he'd be no good in a fight. And he was pretty sure that's what it would come to when he found Malfoy. He could feel it already, the satisfaction he would get when he beat that slimy git into a bloody pulp. No one, absolutely _no one_ was going to stop him now. 

Just then, he heard footsteps behind him, moving quickly towards him. Harry. It had to be. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed his suspicions. "Go on back and sit with Hermione, Harry," he called his voice grim. "I'm not stopping. I'm going to rip his bloody hair out and wipe that smirk right off his face! You can't stop me."

"I don't want to stop you," Harry protested. "I'm coming to help you. More than likely Malfoy knows he's going to be in for it, and he's probably got those great oafs of his with him as body guards."

Ron's steps faltered in surprise at Harry's determined tone, and he stopped so that his friend could catch up. "You're really going to help?"

"Of course I am. He hurt Hermione, and he's _not _going to get away with it." Harry stepped into place beside him and they started walking again. "Now, where do you think he's got to?"

Ron shrugged. "Probably raced back to that Slytherin dungeon of his."

"Well?"

"Well what?" Ron responded absently. Why couldn't Harry just walk and keep his eye on the prize? Why did he have to talk so much? Ron was having enough trouble just _thinking _as it was, let alone trying to carry on a conversation. His mind was swirling with thoughts, images. Over and over he saw Draco's smug smile as he sent the bludger careening across the field, and again and again he saw the look in Hermione's eye as the ball hit her. 

By the time they'd reached the staircase leading down to the Slytherin common room, he was practically shaking with rage. Almost everyone they passed took one look at him and headed in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. A few brave souls hung around and followed him, knowing they were about to see a good fight. Ron and Harry weren't the only ones who'd seen what Draco did to Hermione. There were a lot of other students who had witnessed it too.

They started down the staircase, but a cold, smug voice from behind stopped them. "Heard you two great louts were looking for me."

Ron spun around, his face red with fury. At the top of the staircase, Draco Malfoy stood calmly, arms crossed and a I-dare-you expression on his face. The boy must have been itching for a fight. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him, one on either side, and both looked a bit excited at the prospect of a fight.

As Ron and Harry came slowly back up the stairs, a crowd was gathering all around. This was going to be good. 

The two Gryffindors reached the landing, Draco having backed off enough to allow them room. 

Ron almost went for him right then, wanting badly to hear Malfoy's jaw crack under his fist. But he controlled himself. He wanted to have a few words with the pointy-faced brat first-

"How's the little Mudblood?" Draco asked with a sneer that was almost a laugh. Several of his housemates, including Crabbe and Goyle, chuckled, but Ron noticed that most of the students seemed to find nothing funny about the situation. In fact, several of them looked ready to jump in on Hermione's behalf should a fight break out. Ron recognized several of those faces as those of his fellow Gryffindors, and even counted Seamus among them, standing towards the front. The boy looked ready to commit murder himself. 

Ron clenched his hands. "You really shouldn't have done that, Malfoy."

"Oh really?" Draco replied sarcastically. "Which one? Knocked her off that piece of drift wood she insists on calling a broom, or calling her what she is?"

Ron felt Harry stiffen and tense beside him. Waiting. "Neither!" Ron yelled back, darting forward with surprising swiftness and landing a solid punch in Draco's gut before Crabbe and Goyle joined the fight and started dragging him back. Ron felt a moment's pleasure as Draco crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach. Then it was driven from his mind as Harry sprang up behind him and started pulling Goyle off him.

Ron turned his attention to Crabbe, but couldn't quite manage to get away. The boy had him in an awkward position, and he couldn't land a good punch. A different pair of shoes came into Ron's line of vision then, and someone was dragging the giant idiot off him, allowing him time to get away. As soon as he did, Ron looked up. It was Seamus.

But there was no time to think or say anything, as Draco had risen to his feet and was coming towards him with a furious look on his face. All around them, other students had jumped into the fight, Gryffindors against Slytherins mostly, though there were a few students from other houses throwing their lot in with Harry and Ron. They were making so much noise, Ron knew that a teacher was bound to show up soon. _Better get another good hit in while I've got time..._

He had almost reached the Slytherin Captain, but a loud voice yelling at him caught his attention and he turned to see who the speaker was, keeping a wary eye on Malfoy in case he decided to try something. 

Colin Creevey came running towards them, clutching his side as though he'd come a long way at a fast pace. "Hermione's awake," he got out between breaths. "She keeps calling your name, Ron." 

Everything else was shoved to the side as Ron realized what the boy was saying. "She's-she's alright?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly with relief. _And she was calling for me? _He could hardly believe it was true after the way he'd treated her the past week.

Colin nodded in affirmation. 

Ron didn't even think about it. If Hermione was awake and wanted to speak to him, that was his first priority. Malfoy could wait until later. He'd gotten his one good hit in. Ron hurried forward, eyes straight ahead and the scene around him forgotten. 

And it was because of that that Draco's sudden punch to his side almost hit it's mark. Almost, but not quite.

Ginny Weasley's hand shot out of nowhere, halting Draco's arm mid-swing. "Don't you dare hit my brother," she ordered tersely, her anger clearly recognizable in the red of her cheeks. "And this is for Hermione!" 

Draco broke her hold on his arm, jerking back reflexively, expecting her fist to come at him. But Ginny pulled a different trick, and before anyone realized what she intended to do, she'd pulled her wand from her pocket and muttered a curse. It was the same one Ron had tried to use on Malfoy back in his second year, the first time Malfoy had ever called Hermione a Mudblood. The one that caused the recipient to belch slugs. But Ginny had one distinct advantage that Ron hadn't had then: her wand worked. 

A deep silence came over the students who were gathered there, and all movement stopped. Everyone was watching, waiting, to see if the spell would work. 

At first, it didn't look like it had, but then an awful expression came over Draco's face, a look that was half terror, half disgust. Then his hands flew to his mouth as the first slug came up. It dropped to the floor in a trail of slime, and there was a collective mutter of disgust from those watching. Draco glanced up at Ginny, his eyes cold with fury, but there was a shade of something else in them to. Something that she was certain she was the only one to see, something that looked a little like respect...

__

Well. I didn't think you had it in you, Weasle, his eyes seemed to say. Then he was running off down the hall, leaving a trail of slugs and slime behind him. Crabbe and Goyle withdrew after him, and everyone else followed suit, each going there own way until there was no one left standing there but Ron, Harry, and Ginny. Even Colin had left the scene, probably scared he'd get in trouble if a Professor showed up. 

Ron gazed at his little sister in awe. He hadn't even saw her in the crowd, and certainly didn't know she was capable of what she'd just done. "Thanks," he said simply, eyes still wide.

"No problem," she replied, grinning. "Now go, I'll clean up this mess," she nodded towards the corridor. "Hermione's waiting for you."

He started slightly, as if he had forgotten where he'd been heading and was just now remembering. "Right. Let's go Harry. Harry?"

But Harry was still staring at Ginny, surprise mixing with laughter on his face. And something else too, something Ron couldn't quite put his finger on. "I think I'll stay and help Ginny clean up," he said suddenly, surprising everyone, including himself. Even Ginny was looking at him suspiciously. 

Ron frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry waved him away. "Go ahead. It was you Hermione called for anyway," he looked up then, meeting Ron's eyes. "Don't keep her waiting any longer."

Ron nodded, his stomach tightening itself into knots at the thought of speaking with her again. This time, he would apologize before anything else could happen and he'd ask her to forgive him. Hell, he'd beg her if he had to. One week without her was enough to convince him that he needed her more than he'd ever needed anything in his entire life. "Right," he said vaguely, his voice sounding a million miles away as he headed towards the Hospital Wing. "I'd better get going now. Can't keep her waiting." Ron broke into a run.

**__**

And I can't fight this feeling anymore 

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

Throw away the oars forever

Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor

Come crashing through the door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

Hermione raised herself up straighter in the bed as Ron came in, fighting the pain that burned her side as she did so. But something must have shown on her face, because he was immediately at her side, concerned. 

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

She smiled, the pain subsiding for the moment. "I'm fine. Thanks to you." 

Ron colored. "It was noth-"

Madame Pomfrey walked towards them then, looking as if she wanted to run Ron out. "You've got five minutes," she told him sternly. Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but shut his mouth at her look of warning. The nurse walked away.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked the first thing that jumped into her mind. 

"He's helping Ginny clean up slugs in the corridor." Ron's face gave nothing away.

"Huh?" And then she seemed to notice the rip in his clothes, and the small scratch on his cheek. Nothing, really, compared to what could have happened in that fight if Colin hadn't come with the news that Hermione was awake. But she didn't know that.

"Oh, Ron, you're hurt," she cooed, and reached up and touched the place gently with her fingers without thinking. Then, realizing what she'd done, she jerked her hand away as though it burned. "Sorry," she muttered, suddenly unable to look at him. 

But Ron reached out and took her hand in his, placing it back on his cheek and holding it there gently. Then he used his other hand to make her look at him. What she saw made her heart stop, and the small pains from her injury that she still felt faded away into nothingness. "You're not the one who should be sorry, Hermione, I am. I've been a complete jerk this past week- I didn't even give you a chance to explain, and-"

"It's alright, Ron, really," she interrupted, placing a finger over his lips to shush him. "I didn't help matters, letting you think what you wanted to about me and Seamus instead of trying to correct you-"

"You mean..." it was his turn to interrupt her. "You mean there really wasn't anything between you and Seamus?" 

Hermoine smiled at him, her eyes full of compassion, and also a little sorrow, for the things she must have put him through. "No, Ron. There never was, and never will be. He's just a good friend." Ron's eyes brightened at that, and she went on. "But you, Ron. You're different. You're-" she faltered, her voice cracking, "You're not just a good friend anymore."

Ron looked at her then, feeling as though he were drowning in her eyes, and in her voice. But there was a question he had to ask her before he let himself be carried away. He swallowed nervously, and removed her hand from his cheek and held it between his two larger ones, caressing the back of it gently with his thumbs. "Then what am I, Hermione?"

Hermione took a deep, shaky breath, then threw caution to the wind and plunged recklessly onward. No matter what the result was, she had to say it. She could never rest until she had. "You're- I mean, I _hope _that you're my boyfriend again." She fell silent, waiting for him to speak and unable to tear her eyes away from his. 

Ron smiled at the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty. Then, moving slowly and carefully so that he didn't hurt her, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her gently.

Fireworks exploded in Hermione's head when their lips met, and if Ron wasn't practically lying on top of her she felt she could have jumped up from the bed and flown right out the window. Without a broom! But he was there, and she was glad of it. Her hands found his chest, his neck, and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling his warm body melting into hers. _This _was heaven...

"Ahem." Someone cleared their voice loudly, and Ron and Hermione jerked apart, both their faces growing warm with embarrassment. "Sorry to interrupt," Madame Pomfrey began, not looking sorry at all, "but your five minutes are up." She jerked her head towards the door, indicating that Ron should leave. 

With a reluctant sigh, Ron stood up, casting Hermione an apologetic look before turning back to the nurse. "When can I see her again?"

"Come back in a couple of hours after she's had time to rest from your...visit." 

Ron nodded, then glanced back at Hermione. "Later?" he mouthed, his face hopeful.

"Later," she promised, sending him a grin that would have stolen the heart of any man who saw it. But only one did, and he had no heart left to steal; she'd already taken it! 

***********************************************************************************

Six days later, Hermione was released from the Hospital Wing. And just in time for the Yule Ball too.

This time, Ron didn't make the same mistake he had in fourth year. He asked her as soon as he could get her alone in the Common Room that night. Which took a lot longer than one would think; Hermione had been surrounded by friends and well-wishers all afternoon, welcoming her back. But finally, only he, Hermione, and Harry were left.

Harry sensed the mood, made only more obvious by the pointed glances Ron was giving him. "I...um...guess I'd better go." He left hastily, not looking back. _Couples..._And his mind strayed then, and an image superimposed itself in his mind: that of a young, beautiful girl with hair as red as Ron's and a skill with jinxes, hexes, and curses that Harry had to admire. 

He shook his head to rid himself of the image and climbed into bed. _That _particular train of thought was not even worth pursuing; nothing could come of it. But as his eyes closed and he drifted into slumber, he dreamed...

Down in the common room, Ron and Hermione were sitting silently, side by side, simply staring into the fire and saying nothing. It was a peaceful quiet, the kind that only seems to show itself when all persons present are perfectly content. As Ron and Hermione were now. Or almost were anyway. There was one thing Ron still had to get off his mind first.

"Uh, Hermione?" he began hesitantly, unsure exactly how to go about this, and suddenly feeling very shy. 

"Yes?" Hermione responded pleasantly, turning to look at him, shadows from the jumping flames playing over her face and giving her an almost ethereal appearance. 

Ron's mouth went dry. "I-I was wondering...I mean I was thinking..." he took a deep breath and plunged onward. "Do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me tomorrow night?"

Hermione smiled then. "I was wondering if you were ever going to get around to asking me that."

Ron waited for her to continue, but she didn't. She just sat there, waiting for him to make the next move it seemed. "Well?"

"I'd love to go with you." 

Ron could have jumped up and whooped in delight, but gratefully, he restrained himself. Hermione watched as his eyes lit up though, and laughed at the pleased look on his face. It was such a _young _look, a boyish, innocent expression she hadn't seen in a while, and now realized she had sorely missed. 

"Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" Ron nodded, and Hermione pulled herself to her feet. "Well then, I think it's time I went to bed. I've got lot's of homework to catch up on tomorrow, seeing as how I missed several classes this week."

Ron stood up too, and caught her arm as she turned to leave. "Do I get a good night kiss?" he asked in a soft voice.

Hermione grinned impishly. "You sure do." And before he could begin to do anything, she had leaned over, kissed him quickly on the cheek, and vanished up the stairway. 

Ron stood there for a long moment, a foolish grin plastered on his face. Then he turned and practically skipped up the stairway-if such a thing is possible-and climbed into his own bed. He didn't dream that night, but he didn't have to. He was living in a dream already.

********************************************************

"Parvati?" Hermione called hesitantly, "Can I ask you something?"

The other girl glanced at her distractedly as she set in front of a mirror, brushing her long, dark hair until it shone. "What?"

"You remember that purple robe-"

"I knew it!" Lavender exclaimed, coming up behind them. "I really _knew _it. Professor Trelawney will be so pleased when she hears..."

At first, Hermione wondered what she meant, then it came back to her. "You'll want that robe someday," Lavender had said, her smooth voice full of confidence. 

Hermione looked at her roommate, eyes narrowed. "You must be really, _really _good in Divination."

Lavender just shrugged like it was nothing, though she was still smiling. "Professor Trelawney says I'm a natural."

Hermione smiled back. "I believe it."

Lavender giggled. "Now, Parvati, what about that robe? If I'm not mistaken-and I'm sure I'm not- Hermione wants to where it tonight, don't you?" This last was said with a quick glance at Hermione, who nodded her head in consent. 

"That's what I had in mind..."

Parvati jumped up from her chair, caught up by Lavender's excitement. "It'll be perfect on you Hermione! I'll be right back."

She headed across the room, and Hermione and Lavender were left standing there. Lavender used the opportunity to reach up and fiddle with Hermione's hair. "Hmmm," she mused aloud. "I think I've got a charm written down somewhere that will keep you're hair from being so bushy, and maybe we can add some curls to it..." she went on, muttering about this and that, and while Hermione half-listened at first, she soon tuned her out completely. 

Parvati came back with the robe then, and insisted that Hermione go take her shower and change into it right away. 

"But we've still got three hours until the ball-"

"Yes," Lavender interrupted, " and we're going to need every minute of it."

***************************************

Three hours later, Hermione was glad she'd agreed to go along with their nagging and picking. The girl she saw staring back at her in the mirror barely resembled the one she saw every morning. 

"I'm _beautiful,_" she breathed softly, hardly daring to believe it.

Lavender and Parvati, who were standing back, observing their handiwork, giggled. 

"Now don't let this get to your head or anything," Parvati warned, "but yeah, you are."

Lavender nodded her agreement, and Hermione thought she had never felt so happy. Tonight was going to be wonderful. Just wait until Ron saw her!

She turned away from her reflection then, walking back towards the other two girls. "Thank you. Both of you. I never thought I'd say this, but in your own way, you're pure geniuses."

Lavender and Parvati just grinned. Then "Ooh, we're going to be late. Let's go," and Lavender grabbed Hermione's arm and tugged her out the door. Parvati followed right behind.

They entered the common room, and Hermione was surprised to see that it was empty. "Where are the boys at? I thought they were going to wait for us."

Lavender waved her wand in dismissal. "I had to tell them to go on when we were finishing your hair. I knew we'd be late, and I didn't see any reason why they should be too. We'll meet them there."

"Oh," Hermione said in a small voice, a little disappointed. She was going to have to walk into the Great Hall all by herself? The thought sent nervous shivers up her spine. _But then, _she reminded herself, _Lavender and Parvati will be with me. That's something._

Lavender must have sensed something, either in her voice or her expression. "Ron didn't want to go without you, Hermione," she explained, "but I insisted. Besides," she added with a smirk, "it's much better this way. Everyone looks up when people come in late, and you, my dear, will be the star of the show. Tons of guys will want to dance with you, and Ron will be so jealous he'll keep you in his arms all night."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at that. "Remind me to call you next time I need at boost of self-confidence."

"Oh, she doesn't do this most of the time, you know," Parvati jumped in. "She's making a very special exception tonight."

"And I very much appreciate it," Hermione said gratefully as they walked down the halls. The normally bustling corridors were empty now. Everyone must have been at the ball already. 

They reached the entrance to the Great Hall, and Hermione gathered her failing courage. It was now or never...Luckily, Lavender and Parvati didn't seem the least bit nervous, and their excitement was like a drug to her, and carried her in with them. Lavender was right, most of the students did look up to see who had arrived late. 

Parvati and Lavender were obviously no surprise, but Hermione saw several faces gaping in disbelief when they realized who was with them. Hermione felt herself beaming with pride and blushing at the same time. She turned her face away from the surprised stares of her fellow students and searched the room for Ron. 

Standing near the door, but a little way back into the room, Harry, Seamus, and Ron waited for their dates to arrive. Harry was the first to spot them, and his unbelieving look was enough to get Ron's attention. Soon, he joined the mass of gaping students as he stared at the person who could only be Hermione. 

Lavender and Parvati were beautiful tonight, of course, but Hermione seemed to outshine them like the sun outshines the moon. A boy somewhere behind them whistled appreciatively, and Ron turned to glare at him over his shoulder. The boy's smile faded abruptly, and he retreated back into the crowd. 

Harry and Seamus were moving forward to greet Parvati and Lavender now, and Ron began shouldering his way through the crowd to reach Hermione. She was looking away from him, searching the crowd for someone, it seemed. Probably looking for him. 

"Hermione?"

Her head jerked around towards him so fast Ron was vaguely surprised it didn't snap. Then she was smiling at him, and he stepped forward to take her hand. 

As if on cue, the music started playing, the rich melody wafting through the air and egging Ron on. "Would you like to dance?" Ron asked her quietly, his eyes traveling from her beautifully curled hair down over the elegantly styled robe and back up to her eyes, where they stayed, waiting for her answer.

"Of course," Hermione answered simply, and Ron led her out to the dance floor. His arms went around her waist, and hers encircled his neck. He pulled her closer, and they spun slowly to the music. "You look amazing tonight, Hermione," Ron complimented her after a few minutes of comfortable silence between them. 

Hermione grinned up at him. "Thank you. Parvati let me borrow the robe, and then she and Lavender did my hair and everything."

"It's perfect," he assured her, his eyes never leaving hers.

But something caught Hermione's attention then, and she tore her eyes away from Ron long enough to glance over his shoulder at the couple dancing nearby. It was Harry and Lavender, and they seemed to be arguing about something. 

"For goodness sakes, Harry," Hermione thought she heard Lavender say,"if you want to dance with the girl, just go over and ask her. I don't want to dance with a boy who's too busy thinking about someone else to see straight anyway. There are plenty of other boys who want to dance with _me._" She pulled away from him then, leaving him standing alone in a sea of dancers. He looked a little forlorn at first, but then Hermione saw his features harden in resolve, and she watched, fascinated as he walked over to another girl she couldn't quite see and asked her to dance. Apparently, the girl agreed, because he led her out onto a floor, and a minute later Hermione could recognize her. 

Ginny! He was dancing with Ginny. She tugged on Ron's arm excitedly. "Look." 

Ron turned to see what Hermione was so adamant about, and even he had to smile at the sight, though he felt another emotion underneath as well. Harry had better not hurt her...But it was just a dance, what harm could that do? He shook his doubts from his mind and turned back to Hermione. 

They seemed to dance forever, caught up in the music and the warm feeling of each others arms. After what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few minutes, Hermione pulled away. 

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you, Ron, and haven't gotten a chance to yet."

"What's that?" Ron asked, wondering what she was talking about.

Hermione chewed her lip, then went on. "I want to thank you for catching me at the game last Saturday. Harry told me all about it. He said it was the most brilliant piece of flying he'd ever seen."

"Really?" Ron asked, disbelief evident in his voice. "Harry said that?" Hermione nodded, and he smiled, pleased. "You don't have to thank me for that, Hermione. I had to catch you."

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion, and she looked up at him, feeling suddenly breathless and excited, nervous and scared to death all at once. "Why is that, Ron?" she asked softly.

"Because," he said, his voice just as low, "I think I'm in love you, Hermione Granger."

Time stood still. The very air around them held it's breath while Hermione's head spun and her heart raced. Her eyes widened in surprise, and though somewhere deep inside she'd been expecting him to say that, had hoped that he would say that, it was still a shock. Then happiness flooded through her, and she laughed with pleasure, her dark eyes gleaming.

"Well, I'll do you one better, Ron Weasley," she teased, grinning up at him in the semi-darkness of the room. "I _know _I'm in love with you."

Now it was Ron's turn to be shocked, and he went still, his face paling alarmingly. 

Hermione became worried. That wasn't the kind of reaction she'd expected. "Ron? Are you alright?"

He looked up at her then, and color flooded back into his cheeks. "I think I almost had a heart attack," he told her, only half-joking. 

She grinned in relief, and punched him playfully. "Ro-on..."

"No really. For a moment there, I was so happy I thought I'd die." 

Hermione rolled her eyes, laughter welling up inside her. "So, what, your not happy anymore now?" she teased.

"No! I assure you, I am still one _very _happy person." 

As if to prove it, he swept her up in his arms, and spun her around, his lips coming down to touch hers the moment her feet were back on the floor. Hermione's eyes closed, and she waited for the kiss that was surely to come. 

It never reached her, and she looked up, eyeing Ron in confusion. "What's wrong."

Ron hesitated. "Do you care if- Is it alright-Can I kiss you in public?" he finally asked simply. 

Hermione chuckled then, her laughter drifting in the air like music, and several heads turned towards the sound. But Ron and Hermione didn't see them, because at that moment, there was only the two of them. Hermione twined her hands around Ron's neck again, and pulled his lips back down to hers. "Anytime, Ron, anytime."

**__**

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor

Come crashing through the door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

The End

A/N: Well, there you have it. I hope you all enjoyed the story as much as I did. I'm thinking of doing a sequel, but it will be about either Harry and Ginny or Draco and Ginny. I haven't decided which I like best yet. I left little hints of both in the story too, if you noticed. Let me know what you think of this idea in a review please! 

Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed:

cat-chan (Here I am, laughing again, lol. I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about the story and about Ron, it always makes me feel that way to. Lucky! I was really wanting to see the midnight premiere of LotR too, but I'm not going to get to. Maybe after it's been out a few days…*grins and hugs back*); Martha;Line- from Denmark (Hope you're satisfied with the conclusion. And you have a "Harry" Christmas too, lol.); hp/charmed obsessed (glad I could help!);mark-33w

Oh, and now I'm going to do a bit of advertising for a site I've recently discovered called Hogwart's Tales. It's a HP fan fiction site with some great stories and lots of potential. It's just getting started though, so it needs lots of wonderful people like you to check it out and read the stories, maybe even to post your own. The URL is www.hogwartstales.com. Even if you don't want to register at the site you can choose the "browse" option there and read the stories! 


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